Second Hand
by Idan
Summary: Follow up to In the Cards. It's not necessary to read that first, though this will definitely spoil that one if you haven't. Patrick Jane finds it's not always easy getting back to normal after a tough case.
1. Welcome Home

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist and am doing this purely for entertainment, not receiving any compensation other than (hopefully) some feedback.

**Author's Note**: This is just a glimpse into the family life of our heroes, mostly fluff. There's mention of crime that happens before the story begins, and some angst mixed in, but mostly I wrote this to keep my sanity in the face of spoilers.

**Chapter 1: Welcome Home**

The apartment was surprisingly quiet when Patrick Jane let himself in, entering the alarm code quickly as he frowned in thought. It was Wednesday, wasn't it? The twins didn't have any after school activities on Wednesdays, but maybe Teresa had taken them somewhere to distract them. She wasn't expecting him for a few more hours, after all; he'd decided to fly home rather than drive back with the rest of the unit and hadn't called to let her know, wanting to surprise them.

"Gimme!" a familiar voice demanded from the dining room. Jane smiled as he set his bag down on the couch and headed in that direction. As he got closer, he could hear music playing, one of those kids' CDs he hated that consisted of unremarkable popular music with sanitized lyrics.

"Victoria, wait until Liam is finished with it. Here, try this one." Teresa's patient tone was a little more strained than usual, but then she'd been a single parent for almost two weeks now. She had to be exhausted.

"I want the green!" Victoria persisted.

"Here," Liam said. "I'll use the yellow and then put blue on it."

Patrick reached the doorway and leaned against the frame, his weariness fading as he looked at his family. They were bent over the table, coloring industriously on a large piece of paper that he soon realized read "Welcome home, Daddy!"

Teresa was on the far side of the table, with Liam at the foot and Victoria nearest him, on her knees as she ground the crayon into the paper with broad strokes. In contrast, Liam was careful to stay inside the lines, biting his lip as he concentrated. Just like his mother was doing, Patrick noted, his gaze landing on his wife.

Something knotted and painful loosened inside him at the sight of her. She had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and was wearing an old T-shirt, but she'd never looked better to him. Skype, although a wonderful invention, couldn't compare to being in the same room with her. This was the longest they'd been separated since his stint in Vegas almost seven years ago, and if he had his way, it was the very last time he would leave his family for any reason, no matter how worthy.

Liam happened to look up then, catching sight of his father and sucking in a breath of surprise as his sea green eyes widened above his grin. Teresa looked at her son, then followed his gaze. Happiness brightened her face as she pushed out of her chair, and Victoria let out an ear-splitting shriek of "Daddy!"

"Should I go away until you're finished?" Patrick teased as Victoria launched herself into his arms and Liam wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed hard. Teresa let him hug and kiss both kids before wedging herself in, linking her arms around his neck and giving him a smiling kiss. It was over much too soon for him; after all these years, she was still his safe harbor, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into her arms and lose himself in her.

But that would have to wait until bedtime, which would probably be a drawn-out affair from the way Victoria and Liam were babbling at him much too fast to be understood. Meeting her eyes, he saw that she was thinking the same thing, her smile turning rueful.

"Ow!" He couldn't help yelping as something tugged painfully at his scalp.

"Daddy, listen!" Victoria insisted as he reached up to remove her hand from his hair.

"Victoria Marie!" Teresa exclaimed. Patrick recognized the tone from years of being on the wrong end of her temper. "What did I tell you about pulling hair? Just this morning?"

Victoria pouted, which usually worked on her father but was pointless with her mother. "That it's not nice," she said reluctantly.

"And?" Teresa said sternly.

Victoria sniffled, but Patrick recognized fake tears when he saw them. Victoria was shaping up to be a first-class actress, every inch her father's daughter. "And not to."

"And what happens when you do something you know you're not supposed to?" Teresa was the family disciplinarian, and she was good at it. She'd been cowing criminals for years, and as much as she adored her children, she was determined to teach them to behave well.

Patrick wanted to plead extenuating circumstances on his darling daughter's behalf, but he and Teresa had agreed years ago not to argue in front of the children or undermine each other's authority. So he kept silent as Victoria wailed, "I don't want to go in timeout! Daddy!"

"Sorry, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead and set her down, which was difficult since she did her best to cling to him. "You know the rules. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Victoria did not go quietly, but Teresa escorted her from the room with an apologetic glance at him, obviously sensing that he wanted to intervene. He smiled a little at her to let her know he wasn't upset, then looked down as Liam tugged at his sleeve. "Hey, Liam," he said, broadening his smile as he looked at his little boy.

"I made you something," Liam said.

"I see that," Patrick said, looking at the half-finished banner.

"No, something else. In my room." Liam took his hand and led him through the door, and he followed willingly.

He understood why Madeleine had sent him on this case, but there was nothing worse than crimes involving children. Even though the boys the killer had preyed on were a few years older than Liam, he'd still had nightmares about finding his son at one of the crime scenes. Seeing him whole and happy was a great gift, a gift too many fathers in Southern California would no longer get. Patrick wasn't going to take a moment of it for granted.

Liam let go of his hand and ran to the desk in the corner of his room, picking up a piece of paper and coming back to stand in front of him, looking uncertain. He really wanted him to like his latest drawing, Patrick knew. As if there were a chance he wouldn't.

"Well? Do I have to say the magic word?" He grinned.

Liam smiled and shook his head, then took a deep breath and handed him the picture. Patrick didn't have to feign being impressed as he looked at the drawing of his Citroen, garaged a few blocks away and rarely driven anymore. "Liam, that's great! Thank you. This is your best one yet."

"I used the colored pencils Grandpa Virgil gave me for Christmas," Liam said. "Mommy took a picture with her phone and printed it out for me so I could get it right. I did, didn't I?"

His anxious look made Patrick bend down to scoop him into a hug, careful not to crumple the drawing. "It's perfect," he said. "Thank you."

He would never stop being surprised that he and Teresa had managed to produce an artist. He'd always thought Charlotte's musical talent came from Angela, but all the Lisbons he'd met were practical, nose-to-the-grindstone types, with not a poetical dreamer among them. Maybe it was a recessive gene from his own mother, whom he'd barely known?

"Mommy said if you liked it we could get a frame," Liam said when he let go.

"Then we'll definitely get a frame, because I love it."

Liam looked up at him thoughtfully. He had his father's eyes but his mother's honest, open way of looking at people. He also had her kind heart. If there was a kid on the playground who looked lonely or sad, it was a sure bet Liam would feel the need to go make friends. He wasn't sure what Liam saw in his face, but the boy put his arms around him and hugged again.

"I'm so glad to be home," Patrick said, hugging back. "Thank you for such a great welcome."

"Mommy said you need lots of hugs," Liam explained when he stepped back.

"And we know Mommy is always right," Patrick chuckled, smiling to cover the tears that wanted to come. He could just picture Teresa recruiting the kids into her effort to comfort him after the hellish case he'd been forced to take. It had been a long time since he'd been involved enough with a case to let it get to him, but she apparently remembered the signs. And even with five year old twins and a demanding job, she'd paid enough attention over phone calls and video chats to see them. He felt a rush of love and gratitude.

"Daddy!" Victoria called, running down the hall. She was all smiles again as she threw her arms around him, her usual sunny temperament restored. "Come see me dance! My show is Saturday."

Patrick followed her across the hall into her room, thankful he'd made it back in time for her ballet recital. She was more enthusiastic than talented, but he wanted to encourage appreciation for the arts and culture in his children, and Teresa agreed as long as they also got exposed to sports.

Hearing jangling in the hall, he glanced over his shoulder to see Teresa carrying his luggage to their room, probably determined to unpack it. "Leave that, darling. I'll get it later," he called. His case notes were with Cho, but he couldn't remember now if he'd tossed the bloody shirt in or thrown it away. He'd been a little out of it.

Teresa joined him a few moments later, and he wrapped one arm around her and one around Liam, who leaned against his side as they watched Victoria spin around in her tutu.

Perfect, Patrick thought. This was the best homecoming he could have wished for.

mmm

Teresa cleaned up the dinner dishes, pleased to note there were no leftovers. It had taken several attempts to replicate Patrick's spaghetti sauce, but it seemed she'd finally done it. His effusive praise of the simple meal had made her blush, which might have been his goal, she now realized.

She smiled, listening to his distant voice as he mimicked the characters in the bedtime story he was reading. This was the third one, by her count, but she knew he needed the time with the kids. Besides, she was about at the end of her rope after fighting the daily battles that came with raising children. It was a huge relief to have reinforcements, and letting the kids stay up late while their father read to them seemed a minor infraction, though she was aware she wouldn't think so in the morning when she had to wrangle them for school.

But she wanted her turn with Patrick. She'd missed him fiercely.

He was still reading when she finished cleaning up, so she booted up her laptop to get some work done. Hightower had been forced to allow her to work part-time and mostly remotely while Patrick was out of town, since he had refused to consider any other childcare option, but she was now facing a substantial backlog.

Engrossed in case reports, she worked longer than she meant to. When she shut down the laptop, the lights in the kids' rooms were off and a lamp in the master bedroom was on. She wondered why Patrick hadn't come out to interrupt her and went to see what he was up to.

He was sprawled on his back on the bed, having managed to remove his jacket and shoes but nothing else, and was snoring lightly. He really must be wiped out, she thought, sighing as she gave up her hopes for a passionate reunion.

And he hadn't managed to unpack, she saw as she headed for the bathroom. She might as well do it for him; she could drop his dry cleaning off after taking the kids to school in the morning. He only wore suits now when he was working, so he hadn't bothered to buy many.

The bloody shirt came as a shock. She held it up to gauge the shape of the stain, trying to figure out if the blood was Patrick's. It looked like it could have come from a bloody nose; had someone punched him? Or had he suffered some other injury?

She went to the bed and gently unbuttoned his vest, then his shirt, running her fingers over his unmarked chest with a sense of relief. She was just being silly. If he'd gotten hurt, Cho would have told her, she knew. She pressed a kiss over his heart and went back to unpacking.

mmm

Teresa woke up and listened, trying to figure out what had disturbed her. But she couldn't hear any noise from the kids, and the clock read three-thirty, so she rolled over with a groan. Then she realized Patrick wasn't in bed with her. His getting up must have been what woke her.

She rolled out of bed and turned on the lamp. The rest of his clothes had joined his jacket on the nearest wingback chair, so he'd been up for a while.

The creak of a door made her look up. Of course. She'd been meaning to oil the hinges on Victoria's door for a week. That was what had woken her.

Sliding out of bed, she found Patrick exactly where she expected: at Liam's partially open door, looking in on his son after checking on his daughter. It was a habit as old as the twins themselves. He always did it after a nightmare; she knew he had a compulsion to reassure himself that his family was safe and sound whenever he was anxious. Perfectly understandable, though tonight she missed the days when he'd simply wake her for comfort sex.

She slid her arms around him from behind, flattening her hands against his bare stomach and pressing a kiss into his shoulder blade. God, she'd missed him. Was it selfish to be hopeful that he hadn't bothered to put pajamas on? It might just be that he was too tired to bother and planned to sleep in his boxers.

"Three-thirty and all is well," she whispered.

Patrick made a quiet huffing sound she hoped was one of amusement. "For us. Not for everyone." He sighed, pulling the door closed and resting his forehead against it. "All those fathers, Teresa. They made me remember. Not that I ever forgot, of course, but... It doesn't stop hurting. Ever. But eventually you can feel other things again, something other than the pain, the rage, the guilt. The constant replay in your head of what you could have done to stop it. The knowledge that protecting your child is the most important thing in your life and you failed at it, with no chance to try again, to redeem yourself."

What could she say to that? He didn't want platitudes, and she'd always felt this was one area she wasn't qualified to speak on. "I'm sorry. I wish you hadn't had to take this one." Even though Hightower had insisted, then threatened, and finally pled the case of the parents whose children would be lost if he didn't help them catch this maniac. Teresa had felt it was a low blow, but she had been desperate to help the team catch the killer too.

She just hadn't thought it would take so long and be so hard on her husband. Years of happiness had made his scars fade so that she rarely noticed them, but tonight they were obviously painful. She should have protested, tried to keep him home. She should have had his back.

Patrick turned in her embrace. "Teresa," he whispered, "my greatest wish is that you never, ever know what it feels like."

She swallowed hard. Losing her babies was too horrible to think about. "Mine too."

He put his arms around her, fingers stroking the silk of the nightgown she'd put on instead of her usual sleepwear. His lips twitched a little. "Sorry I missed out on the grown-up homecoming celebrations."

She smiled gently. "They weren't canceled, just postponed. When you're ready. I can tell Hightower you're in no shape to be left alone and that she has to give me tomorrow off. She owes you that."

A corner of his mouth lifted. "That and more. Do you want a bigger office? A raise? I bet I can get it for you."

"I'll get my own raises, thank you." She leaned up to give him a soft kiss. "Come back to bed. I've been sleeping alone for far too long, and I refuse to do it any longer."

He let out a groan. "Oh, me too."

"Liar," she whispered, kissing her way along his jawline. "I know what you look like when you're not sleeping. How long has it been? Since you left?"

"Yeah. I missed you." He tightened his arms around her and caught her mouth in a devouring kiss that made her go weak in the knees. She returned it eagerly, marveling that six years of marriage hadn't dimmed his ability to set her body on fire almost instantly.

After a moment she forced herself to pull away, catching his hands in hers and pulling him toward the bedroom, smiling at his sly grin. This was going to be a night to remember.


	2. Back to Normal

**Author's Note:** Here's the next installment. Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm so glad to know I'm not the only one in need of a little sweetness these days. I keep wanting to estimate how long this will be, but after my prediction that In the Cards would be two or three chapters, I've sworn off estimating my muse's stamina!

**Chapter 2: Back to Normal**

The next morning, Patrick woke briefly when Teresa pushed at him so she could get out of bed. He did his best to prevent it, but soon she was walking across the room saying something about the kids and breakfast. He mumbled something he hoped was appropriate and fell back into exhausted slumber.

When he woke up for real, the apartment was silent and sunlight was creeping around the curtains at an angle that suggested mid morning. "Teresa?" he called. If she had been serious about taking the day off, she should be back from taking the twins to kindergarten by now.

There was no response, so he closed his eyes again with a sigh. He'd looked forward to some time alone with her, but maybe after last night she was sated. He grinned. Even exhausted and emotionally battered, he still had it. Pretty good for a man who had passed his fiftieth birthday, he congratulated himself.

After a few minutes, he decided to fix himself some breakfast and shower. It was only after accomplishing those two things that he realized Teresa had unpacked his suitcase; the bloody shirt soaking in cold water in the sink was a dead giveaway. He threw it out, having no intention of wearing it again, whatever his frugal wife might think.

At least if she had gone to work, Cho would bear the brunt of the interrogation. Unless he saw it coming and threw Rigsby or Stockwell under the bus, in which case he'd really rather tell her himself.

He found his phone on the nightstand and texted her: _Where are you? I'm lonely._

_Sorry. Budget meeting. Can you pick the kids up? Soccer after school._

_Of course. Be home for dinner please._

_I'll do my best._

Sometimes it really sucked having a wife who was so dedicated to her job, he decided. On the other hand, he could use the time to grab a nap so he'd be well rested when she got home that night.

mmm

The nap turned out to be a good idea, since he not only had to face questions about his "trip" (as if he'd been on vacation) from the other parents he knew in the pickup line at the private kindergarten the twins attended, but the other parents on their soccer team. Patrick thought it was a little silly to play a game without keeping score, but he could appreciate the value of letting the kids run around for an hour and burn off some energy. Besides, Teresa truly enjoyed going to the games when she was able, though he could tell she was going to take it too seriously when they started to really compete. She was very competitive herself, and she'd probably be more depressed than the kids the first time their team lost.

Victoria managed to kick a bona fide goal, to Patrick's delight. Apparently there had been some mother-daughter bonding on the soccer field while he was away. There was still some work to be done teaching her how to be a gracious winner, however, as her immediate reaction was to look to the sidelines and yell, "Daddy, did you see me? I'm the best one!"

He smiled at her and called, "Great job, sweetheart!"

But when play started again, Victoria went sprawling. Patrick couldn't see whether the other kid had kicked her accidentally or on purpose, but his immediate concern was to reach his crying child. Liam got to her first and gave her a hug, and she grabbed on to him, leaving her father free to examine her ankle. It wasn't broken, but it would definitely bruise.

"You're okay, princess," he soothed her, picking her up and carrying her off the field. "We'll get some ice on it and you'll feel better pretty soon."

"Can I still play?" she sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

"Not today. Next time." One of the other parents handed him an ice pack, and he applied it as gently as he could, forcing himself to calm down. It had probably been an accident, since Victoria wasn't demanding the culprit be punished.

The coach brought the other child, a girl named Selene, over to mutter an apology. Victoria looked at her father for guidance, but the words she spoke were learned from her mother. Teresa always insisted on forgiveness being asked and given between her children when one wronged the other—he surmised it had to do with their religious instruction. So it was natural for Victoria to say, "I forgive you," in response to an apology. Coach Dave smiled, but Selene looked taken aback.

Liam had hovered uncertainly during the exchange. "Are we going home now?"

"Do you want to finish playing?" Patrick asked. Liam wasn't an enthusiastic player, usually running on the edge of the herd, preferring to have as little to do with the ball as possible. Patrick recognized it as a manifestation of his perfectionism—the idea that it was better to avoid the opportunity to make mistakes. He needed to learn to cut loose and make mistakes without beating himself up over them.

Liam looked at the other kids, then at his sister. She said, "Go on. It's your turn to make a goal anyway."

Patrick was surprised that his little diva was being so reasonable, but as Liam ran back to the field, she cuddled up to him and said, "Can I have a Popsicle?"

He had to smile. She had decided to play her injury for some daddy time and a normally forbidden treat—he hated those artificial conglomerations masquerading as food, preferring to freeze real fruit juice when the kids wanted something cool and refreshing. "Okay," he decided. Curbing her manipulative tendencies could wait, after all.

He went to retrieve one of the treats from a nearby cooler, relieved it hadn't been their turn to supply snacks today. He even picked out a blue one, since that was her favorite color, and hurried back to her as another commotion arose on the field. Looking to see what was wrong, he realized the coach was talking to Liam. Uh oh. He was going to feel like the world's worst hypocrite if he had to lecture his son on the evils of revenge. Teresa would no doubt blame him for inspiring it, too.

He handed Victoria the Popsicle and hurried over to the coach as play resumed. "What happened?"

Dave grinned. "He took the ball away, right from under Selene. Smoothest move I've ever seen in this age group. You might have a soccer star there after all, Patrick."

Patrick let out a sigh of relief, looking proudly at his son. Apparently there were some sneaky Jane genes mixed in with all those guileless Lisbon ones, after all.

mmm

The three of them went for ice cream afterward; Patrick figured they'd have a late dinner anyway since Teresa would almost certainly have to work late. And he was right. It was nearly eight when she texted him she was on her way home, just as they were sitting down to a stir fry dinner. It had been a long afternoon and evening, and he was tired. Apparently he needed to recharge some more before he'd be back to his usual super dad status. Since bedtime was usually Teresa's time with the kids, he would be off duty once she got home unless there was an emergency at CBI.

The minute she walked in the door, he knew she'd talked to the team about his bloody shirt. He smiled reassuringly to ease the crease between her eyebrows and said, "Perfect timing, my dear. How was your day?"

"Long. I'm sorry; I did try to get home sooner," she said, taking off her jacket and going to their room to put her gun in the safe. The days when she kept weapons stashed around the apartment in easy reach had ended the moment Victoria started crawling.

"I know," he said when she reappeared. "I never really expected you to, though. We had a big day on the soccer field, didn't we, Victoria?"

"I scored a goal!" she confirmed.

"You did? Good girl! I'm sorry I missed it," Teresa said, immediately diverted.

"Liam did great too. The coach was impressed," Patrick added.

Soccer talk occupied the entire meal, and Patrick wondered if he should start making video of the games for the twins to rehash with their enthusiastic mother. He'd give it a try next week, he resolved.

He cleaned up the dishes while Teresa supervised the bath and bedtime routine, then went about his own bedtime preparations, ducking into Liam's room to kiss both kids goodnight before Teresa read their bedtime story. Usually he lingered in the hallway to listen, enjoying the sounds of his family safe and happy, but tonight he planned to be in bed and feigning sleep when Teresa finished. That would put the inevitable discussion off until tomorrow, when hopefully he would feel more up to it.

Everything went as planned, though he was tempted to reconsider when Teresa turned off the light and snuggled up to him, one arm across his chest and her head resting on his shoulder. She smelled delicious, having used the cucumber and mint facial cleanser he'd bought her at a fancy boutique he'd run across during a witness interview two cases ago. He felt a pang as he realized he'd forgotten to bring her and the kids anything from his trip.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shifting her head so she could kiss his cheek.

"For what?" he murmured, surprised. He'd been expecting a lecture.

"For telling you to take the case. I knew it would be hard for you, but I never imagined how terrible it would get." Her arm tightened around him.

Oh, this was worse than a lecture. He hated the guilt in her voice. "You did your job. The case needed my insight."

"I did my job as a supervising agent of the CBI. I failed miserably in my job as your wife."

"No, you didn't. You were wonderfully comforting, and you always made time to talk to me, even when you were being pulled in several different directions."

She kissed his neck. "I should have pulled you off the case when it got too much."

"And how were you supposed to know that? I made sure not to alarm you. And Cho's job was to make sure I was fit to work, not to run to my wife every time I had a bad moment."

He felt her grimace against his chest and realized she'd already talked this out with Cho. But she must have gotten the story from Rigsby if she was this worked up about it. "But it was his job to tell me that the consultant on the case wasn't sleeping and worked himself into such a state that he mistook one of the victims for his own son."

Patrick sighed. "There was a physical resemblance, you know. And...he was still alive when I got there. Barely. Just enough to call me daddy."

Teresa sucked in a shocked breath, her nails digging painfully into his chest. He shifted to slide an arm under her and rub her back to comfort her. "They didn't tell me that."

"I don't think they heard. Cho was calling the ambulance, I think. Rigsby was grabbing a towel to try to stop the bleeding, and Stockwell and Granger were making sure the killer wasn't still there."

She took a minute to construct the scene in her head. Then she whispered in a choked voice, "Why didn't you call me?"

He kissed the top of her head, hating the hurt he heard even worse than the guilt it had replaced. "My love, we both know perfectly well that you would have ordered Cho to put me on the next plane home. And after that I was more determined than ever to catch the bastard. And we did. We found the next boy in time to save him."

"I would have understood that," she said.

"Maybe. But you would have been worried and distracted, and the kids needed you. And, to tell you the truth, I was a little concerned that you might come to see for yourself. And Grace already had her hands full with Ben, Josh, and Emma."

"I would have called Virgil," she murmured. She let out a long sigh and, after a moment, added, "Well, that settles it. No more out of town cases for you. Ever."

"Fine with me," he replied. He wanted to be done with this discussion, so he kissed her again and said, "Good night, Teresa. I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but after a moment he heard Teresa's breathing hitch and felt a wet spot on his pajama top. With a frown, he reached out to feel her face, then turned onto his side so he could draw her into his arms. "Please don't cry, my darling."

"I shouldn't have sent you there. You already lost one child. To think you'd lost another one, even if it was just for a few minutes—God, Patrick." Her voice was thick with misery. "I can't imagine. How did you bear it?"

"I still had you. No matter what happens, I'll never leave you, Teresa. I promised you that when I married you."

She took a deep breath, calming herself, as he kissed her tears away, blinking back his own. He couldn't bear her sadness; he'd never been able to.

"I'm supposed to be comforting you," she sighed.

"Please feel free," he replied, and felt her huff out a soundless laugh before beginning to unbutton his pajama top. Tired as he was, he wasn't going to pass up a chance to make love with his wife, especially while she was in an emotional state. He did a quick calculation in his head and realized that yes, he'd better take any opportunity she offered, since her period would soon usher in a spell of abstinence.

They knew each other so well that foreplay went quickly, though he slowed things down once he was inside her, wanting to savor the sensation of being enveloped by her, sheltered in her arms and legs with the reassurance of her rapid heartbeat all around him. Teresa tried several times to speed up his rhythm, scratching at his back in frustration when he refused.

"My little sex kitten's in heat, is she?" he teased.

"I'm nobody's kitten, buster," she retorted. "A cheetah, maybe, or a tigress."

"Snow leopard," he panted. "Rarely seen, graceful, and beautiful, adapted to harsh environments."

"Does she smack her mate in the nose when he frustrates the hell out of her?"

"Probably. I suppose it would be pointless to encourage you to treasure the moment?"

She sighed into his ear. "I treasure all my moments with you, Patrick."

He paused to kiss her. "That's one of the best things you have ever said to me." He decided to oblige her by speeding up, and she let out a gasp of surprise that turned into a squeak. He smiled, betting himself he could get her to do it again. He surpassed his own expectations, wringing a strangled shriek from her as she came. Grinning, he was about to let his self-control lapse when he heard a voice call, "Mommy?"

"Shit," Teresa breathed. "Patrick, stop!"

He did, but only with enormous effort. When he heard footsteps in the hall, he rolled off her, breathing hard and gritting his teeth, hoping he didn't give himself an aneurysm. Thankfully, they were under the sheet, so he didn't have to scramble for cover.

"Mommy?" The door was pushed open, and Victoria ran to the bed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sweetie. Go back to bed, please," Teresa replied, managing to sound soothing even though she was still breathing hard. "Go on. Daddy needs to sleep." She raised her voice. "You too, Liam. Everybody back to bed."

Two sets of footsteps scurried away, and two doors closed. Teresa moved quickly to straddle him, and he let himself go, biting his lips to keep from shouting in relief.

"Sorry about that," she whispered, lowering herself to lie beside him. "I let them come in while you were gone if they woke up during the night. I should have realized they'd get in the habit."

He let out a long breath. "It was bound to happen eventually." When he could move again, he rolled onto his side, pushing his face against her breast. "Stay home with me tomorrow."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe not tomorrow. But soon. I promise."

He would have to content himself with that, he knew. He kissed her breast and yawned, gratefully succumbing to sleep.


	3. Worlds Collide

**Author's Note:** We're finally up to the bit I was envisioning when I first started this. It was tough to write, but I hope you will enjoy it. And I really hope I'm not making them too perfect. If I am, just chalk it up to wish fulfillment. :) Thanks for the reviews and encouragement—hearing my phone ping with a new email about one of my stories never gets old. It makes me giddy every time. So thanks for that!

**Chapter 3: Worlds Collide**

Teresa had to go to work early the next day, so Patrick did the morning kid wrangling and school drop-off, then spent the rest of the morning going over some paperwork Cho had sent him, even though the last thing he wanted to do was think about the last case. After lunch, he decided to head to the grocery store to restock. Although he was impressed that he hadn't come home to bare cupboards, since he'd expected Teresa to work every second she wasn't with the kids, they were running low on some critical items.

Friday wasn't his usual shopping day, and he was surprised at how crowded the store was. It took longer than he expected, so he was in a rush to put the groceries away and was a few minutes late to pick the kids up, which made Victoria a few minutes late for the dress rehearsal for tomorrow's ballet recital. She was frantic, even though they weren't the very last ones to arrive, and Patrick was relieved to hand her off to the teacher's assistant to go get dressed and take his seat in the audience with Liam. His son could happily occupy himself for as long as his paper and pencil supply held out.

Victoria had a hard time concentrating during the rehearsal, he noticed; she didn't react well to being rushed. He wished he'd waited to go grocery shopping so she wouldn't have worked herself into a state, and he wished it even more during the drive home, which she spent complaining that she wasn't ready and needed to practice more.

"You'll be fine, Victoria," he assured her. "Everybody is always nervous before they go on stage. But once you're out there, you'll be just fine."

"But I messed up the first thing!" she wailed.

"Because you weren't focused. I promise, we'll be early for the performance so you have time to focus."

"I don't want to dance tomorrow," she sulked, folding her arms just like her mother did when she was unhappy.

"Yes, you do."

"No I don't!" she yelled.

"Fine. You don't have to. We can go watch all your friends and clap for them." He would never force her to perform like his father had him, but he knew this was just nerves. Tomorrow she would wake up eager to take her turn in the spotlight.

"No!" She sounded close to tears.

There was no point continuing to talk about this now. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." He bit back a swear word as someone cut him off and he had to slam on the brakes. This was, apparently, not his day.

"Daddy!" Victoria protested as her pretzel snack went flying all over the backseat.

"Sorry, princess. Liam, you okay?"

"Yeah," Liam replied. "You okay, Daddy?"

Not really, Patrick thought. "Yeah. I'll just be glad to get home."

"Take a deep breath," Liam advised.

Patrick grinned; that was what he always told them when they were upset. "I think we all need to take a deep breath."

Liam asked, "Can we have pizza for supper?"

"With pepperoni?" Victoria agreed.

"Tomorrow. It was Mommy's turn to pick today, and she wants pork chops."

"I hate pork chops!" Victoria protested.

"Since when?" Patrick knew she'd eaten them willingly enough last time he fixed them.

"I want pizza!" she said.

He glanced at her in the rear view mirror, returning his eyes to the road just in time to brake for a yellow light that turned red. He felt his temper rising and tried to swallow it down. These children and his time with them were precious, and he of all people should remember that. Didn't he regret every sharp word he'd ever said to Charlotte? It wasn't their fault he hadn't slept well and their mother had gotten an early morning call and people in the grocery store and on the road were annoying. "We can have pizza tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?" she persisted.

"Because it's your mother's turn to pick," he replied. "You're not going to change my mind, Charlotte."

It was only when the silence from the back seat made him glance in the mirror that he realized the wrong name had come out of his mouth. _Crap._

Liam said, "Who's Charlotte?"

He was so tempted to lie, or at least skirt around the truth. But he'd promised himself he wouldn't lie to his children if he could avoid it, and he'd always intended to tell them about their sister. Just not today, of all days. "Charlotte was my daughter."

"But I'm your daughter!" Victoria said.

"Yes, you are. But a long time ago, before I had you, before I met your mother even, I had a daughter named Charlotte." He turned in to the parking garage, grateful to be off the road. Maybe the distraction of going upstairs would put the subject out of their minds. If Brian the doorman was on duty in the lobby, they would chat with him for a few minutes.

But Brian wasn't there, and the substitute wasn't fond of children, so Patrick merely exchanged nods with him as he led the kids to the elevators. They were both carrying their backpacks in front of them, hugging them like teddy bears, and he bit his lip as he pondered how to explain his past without frightening them. He wished Teresa was here, and for a moment he was tempted to text her that she was needed at home.

"Okay, backpacks in your rooms. I'll get your drinks on the table," he said cheerfully, wanting to make everything seem normal. He decided to treat them to grape juice, then added some sliced apple since Victoria hadn't gotten to eat all her snack.

He would usually start dinner while they had their drinks, but tonight he brewed himself a cup of tea and joined them. "I know you probably have questions," he said. "You can ask me anything."

Victoria went first. "Did she dance like me?"

"No. She played the piano. And she loved to swim."

"Where does she live?" Liam asked.

This was the hard part. Teresa would have something comforting to say about heaven, but he couldn't bring himself to tell them a story he didn't believe. "Let me start at the beginning. A long time ago, I met a very pretty girl. After a few years, we decided to get married, so we did. And a few years after that, we had a beautiful baby girl. We lived on the beach and were very happy. But then one day I went on a TV show and said something that made a bad man angry. So he took my wife and daughter away. I was very sad for a long time, and I wanted to find the man, so I went to the CBI. And I met your mother. She helped me, because that's what she does. We became friends, and then we fell in love and got married. And then we had you."

"Will the bad man come here?" Victoria frowned.

"No, princess. He can't come here. He's dead."

"He went to hell," Victoria said, eyes wide. "Because he was bad and did mean things. That's what happens to bad people."

"Yes." He had no problem believing in hell. After all, he'd spent some time there himself.

Liam said, very quietly, "So Charlotte is in heaven. And her mommy."

"I hope so," Patrick sighed. "They both certainly deserved to go there."

Victoria slid out of her chair and hugged him. "Then they're happy. But I'm sorry you're sad, Daddy."

"Thank you, sweetie." He pulled her into his lap, smelling the bubble gum scent of her shampoo.

Liam was frowning into his juice. He lifted his gaze uncertainly and said, "What did she look like?"

"Hang on. I'll get a picture." Patrick put Victoria back into her seat and went to the master bedroom, opening the nightstand drawer on his side of the bed. One of the framed black and white family portraits he'd kept from the house in Malibu was under a few books and his reading glasses, and he gently lifted it out. It had been a long time since he'd looked at it, and he was a little surprised that he was able to smile at the beloved faces beaming at the camera.

"Here they are," he said as he went back into the dining room and set the picture on the table.

The twins stared at it raptly. Liam traced Charlotte's face with his finger and said softly, "That's my sister."

Patrick's throat closed, so he was grateful when Victoria said, "That's your sister in heaven. I'm your sister here." She moved closer to the picture and added, "Her mommy doesn't look like our mommy."

"No. She was different. I was different back then, too."

Liam looked up at him. "Your face wasn't so crinkly."

Patrick felt a wry grin tug at his mouth. "Yep."

"What color were Charlotte's eyes?" Victoria asked. "Were they like mine?"

"No, her eyes were brown like her mother's. Just like yours are green like your mother's. Her hair was almost the same color as yours, though."

Liam bit his lip. "How old was she when she went to heaven?"

"Just a little older than you guys," Patrick said. "She was in first grade."

"And you loved her very much," Victoria said uncertainly.

"Yes, I did. I still do, because daddies never stop loving their children, no matter what." Of course, that wasn't what she was really asking. "But love isn't like candy, you know. When you have a bag of candy, you can only give pieces to as many people as there are pieces. Then you have no more candy. Love is like that big waterfall we saw when we went hiking. Remember? No matter how much water goes over the top, there's always more."

They took a few minutes to absorb that. Then Patrick kissed each of them on the top of their heads and said, "I love you both more every day. And I am sad you never got to know your sister, but I'm happy I have you. Now, I'm going to make dinner. Finish your drinks and then you can play until it's time to eat."

mmm

The kids were unusually subdued, Teresa thought. Usually she was tackled the moment she got inside the door, and tonight she'd expected to hear all about Victoria's rehearsal. But Victoria was having a tea party in her room, and Liam was drawing in his, so after she greeted them she went into the kitchen in search of an explanation. "How was your day?" she asked, kissing Patrick. "Mmm, that smells amazing."

"Thanks. How was your day?"

"Ugh, don't even ask. I think you'll be getting a call from Hightower. She seems to think you must be on the edge of sanity for me to want a day off to be alone with you."

"I can handle Madeleine."

"Mm hm." She folded her arms and leaned against the counter. "What's up?"

"What do you mean?" He gave her his best innocently confused face.

"I mean that either something very, very bad happened today or aliens landed, stole our children, and replaced them with unnaturally quiet robots."

"Well, we were late to rehearsal, so Victoria had a little meltdown and said she wasn't going to dance in the recital. I'm sure she'll change her mind in the morning though and everything will be fine. This is ready; do you mind setting the table?"

"Sure." She pulled a stack of plates out of the cupboard and went into the dining room, where she found the remnants of the kids' snack and a picture frame face down on the table. She picked it up and was shocked to find herself looking at the portrait of her husband's first family.

_God, he was so young. And happy._ The man in the picture had no idea what was in store. The thought made her sad, and she took a moment to say a quick prayer for Angela and Charlotte. Then realization dawned: the twins had seen this, and that was why they were so quiet. She added a plea for strength and wisdom for herself and comfort and healing for her family.

Setting the photo carefully on the sideboard, she gathered up the dirty dishes and went to the kitchen to put them into the sink.

Patrick glanced at them and sighed. "Sorry. I forgot to clean up."

"Yes. And you also forgot to mention you decided to tell the kids about your first family today." She was a little annoyed; he should have waited until she got home.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't a decision so much as an accident. I called Victoria by the wrong name."

She took a moment to be grateful he'd never called her by the wrong name. Of course, that might explain the fact that he tended to use endearments in casual conversation where he might easily slip up. Had he always done that on purpose? "How did they take it?"

"Okay, I think. They might open up to you about it more. You're the expert on heaven, after all."

Her annoyance faded, and she slid her arms around him. "Thank you for not taking that away from them."

"Teresa, I'd never take any comfort away from them. I agreed you would raise them with a religious foundation, so why would I undermine that?" He sighed. "It is a comforting concept, I admit. Sometimes I wish I could believe in it."

She'd once asked him how he could look at their babies and not believe in a loving God. He'd responded that having looked at his child's bloody corpse, how could he possibly believe that, if there were a deity, he was benevolent? She had no good answer for that; her priest's explanation that sometimes God's plan was incomprehensible to mere humans was not one he would ever accept.

"I'll go get them ready for dinner." She kissed him and left, heading to Victoria's room first. "Hey, sweetie. Dinner's ready."

"Okay." Victoria didn't look up, though, so Teresa lowered herself to the floor and reached for the teacup on the low table in front of her.

"That's empty. I'll give you a refill." Victoria pretended to pour from her teapot.

"Oh? Did I take somebody's seat?" Teresa asked.

"Yes, but she's gone now."

"Did Cecilia come for a visit?" Victoria had outgrown her imaginary friend already, but maybe she'd needed her today. It couldn't have been easy to hear that she wasn't her adored daddy's only little princess.

"No. I invited Charlotte. She went back to heaven when you came in."

Teresa hoped her face didn't show her dismay. "Did you like her?"

"Uh huh. She was nice. And pretty."

"Yes, she was."

Victoria looked at her, then crawled into her lap, like she used to do when she was little. "Did you have any little girls before me?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

"No, sweetie. You're my only little girl." Teresa rubbed her back and then stroked her hair, waiting for Victoria to talk again.

"Daddy loved Charlotte's mommy. She told me so."

"Yes, he did. He still does. You don't stop loving people when they go to heaven." Teresa searched desperately for the words to reassure her.

"Did he love her more than you?"

Oh, how she wished she knew. But it was the wrong question; he was a different man now. "We're different people, so he loves us differently. Daddy has a great big heart, you know. There's room for all of us."

"But when we're all in heaven together, what if he likes her more?"

"That's a long time from now, honey. And in heaven there's no sadness, remember. So we'll all love each other and nobody will feel left out." Teresa kissed her cheek. "Daddy loves you, baby. He loves all of us. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, wash your hands and help Daddy set the table. Hurry, we don't want dinner to get cold!"

Victoria hopped up and headed for the bathroom as Teresa went to Liam's room. He was at his desk drawing, so she knocked on his door. That gave him a chance to put his work away before she approached. He never liked to show his drawings before they were finished. "Dinner's ready, buddy," she said. "Time to wash up."

"Okay," he replied.

"I know you had kind of a big day. Anything you want to talk about?"

"No," was the quiet response.

"Okay. But if you change your mind, I'm always here to listen."

"I know, Mommy." He hugged her, and she wondered if he was seeking or offering comfort.

"There's nothing to worry about, sweetie. I always knew about Charlotte and her mom. And Daddy always meant to tell you about them. We just had to wait until you were old enough to understand, that's all." She couldn't make it better until he was ready to tell her what was bugging him, she realized sadly, stroking his hair.

"Okay," he said again, pulling back.

"Go wash up for dinner," she said gently, watching him go.

She hated seeing her children unhappy, and it felt unfair that they had to deal with this so soon after their separation from their father, which had been difficult for them to accept. But there was no undoing what was done. She would just have to do the best she could, with them and with Patrick. He wouldn't show it so openly, but this had to have been hard for him too.

Dinner went quickly, since the kids were more interested in eating than talking. Despite Patrick pretending to pull a green bean from behind Liam's ear and finding a carrot stick behind Victoria's, the happy babble she was used to never materialized. She tried to fill the silence by telling a story about Cho interrogating a mime, which had become an instant legend at CBI, but even though Patrick laughed, the lines around his eyes told her he was worried.

As usual, he cleaned up the dishes while she did the bath and bed routine, dropping in to kiss them goodnight before she read them their story. She alternated bedrooms, and tonight they were in Victoria's, so when the story was over she sent Liam to go crawl in his own bed while she supervised Victoria's bedtime prayers. Victoria always had a long list of people to ask God to bless, which got longer when she was trying to put off going to bed, but tonight she confined herself to "Mommy, Daddy, Liam, Grandpa Virgil, and Grandma May." Then she paused before adding, "And my sister in heaven."

Teresa blinked back a tear and bent to help her daughter into bed, tucking the covers securely around her and kissing her. "Good night, my sweet girl. See you in the morning."

"G'night, Mommy."

Teresa paused in the doorway, smiling at her precious daughter for a moment before turning off the light and closing the door. Liam was sitting on his bed waiting when she went into his room. His anxious expression tore at her heart. "Ready for prayers, sweetie?"

"Yeah." He kept his eyes on his feet.

She went over and sat down beside him, so close their shoulders touched, clasping her hands in front of her like he was doing. "Are you worried about Daddy?"

He shook his head. She nodded and said, "Good, because there's no reason to be." She ran through possibilities in her mind, trying to figure out what the trouble was. "Are you worried about Victoria?"

"No."

"Well, you can't be worried about me, because I'm fine," she said.

He swallowed hard, then whispered, "I don't want to go to heaven."

Teresa frowned. "Why not?"

"I like it here with you and Daddy." He turned his face into her arm, and she turned to hug him.

"Oh, baby. You won't go to heaven for a long time yet. And Daddy and I will go there before you do and be waiting for you with open arms." She kissed his head and leaned her cheek against his soft hair.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. You'll live a long life and be happy and go to heaven when you're ready."

"But what if a bad man comes and makes me go away?"

Patrick just had to pick now to give up lying, she thought in weary frustration. "Daddy and I are here to stop any bad men," she assured him. "We put bad guys away all the time, so we know what to look for. And we do everything we can to make sure you are safe, every day. Nobody is going to make you go away. I promise." Her arms tightened around him. Nobody better come after her kids, or it would be the last thing they ever did.

"Okay." He looked up at her with eyes so full of trust that she felt a rush of love for him. And determination to keep her promise, no matter what.

He got down on his knees to say his prayers, then paused and asked, "Do we pray for people who are in heaven, Mommy?"

"Sometimes I do, yes."

"For Charlotte and her mom?"

"Yes. But mostly I pray for Daddy because he misses them. There's nothing people in heaven need, but those of us still on earth need help."

He nodded thoughtfully and said his usual prayers, adding a simple, "And please don't make Daddy be sad" at the end. Teresa kissed him after she tucked him in, making sure he had his stuffed rabbit, Bunny. He'd mostly outgrown it, but he liked to know where it was.

With both kids safely in bed, hopefully to have nice dreams and not nightmares, she went in search of her husband. He was in their office, sitting at the desk and staring out the window. When he heard her at the door, he leaned his head back so he could get an upside down glimpse of her.

"I scarred them for life, didn't I?" he sighed.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, going over to kiss his forehead. "It's just a lot to process. They haven't really known anyone who's died yet. The whole concept will take some getting used to. Are you coming to bed?"

"I think I'll sit up for a while. Read, maybe."

_Brood, you mean_, she thought. She ran her fingers through his curls, then said. "Okay. Don't stay up all night. Don't forget, you have to show Victoria all your best stage fright cures."

"And a big breakfast. Do you have the day off?" he asked hopefully.

"God, I hope so," she sighed.

He tugged at her sleeve, and she bent to kiss him again, this time on the lips. "I love you," he whispered. "You don't ever doubt that, do you?"

"No," she assured him. "I love you too. Wake me if you need me."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he called as she went toward the door. She wasn't sure if that would turn out to be true, but she appreciated the attempt.


	4. Dreams and Dancing

**Author's Note:** Happy premiere day everyone! Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter, and sorry to those of you it made cry. This one is much less emotional, I promise!

**Chapter 4: Dreams and Dancing**

Patrick had lost track of time, staring out the window at the night, but when a cry from the next room brought him to his feet, he knew from the way his joints protested that he'd been there several hours. Hurrying into the hall, he opened Liam's door to find his son curled up around Bunny, breathing hard.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting on the bed and stretching out his arms. "It's okay, buddy. You're safe."

Liam crawled into his embrace. "I had a dream."

"Yes. A bad one, hm?" Patrick rocked him a little, noting that poor Bunny was going to need some more surgery on his fraying ears pretty soon. It was obvious even by the dim glow of the night light.

"Uh huh."

"Would it help to tell me about it?"

"Huh uh."

Patrick smiled a little. He was definitely his mother's son. "Well, do you know what I do when I have a bad dream?"

"You have bad dreams?" Liam looked up, surprised.

"Oh, yeah. Not as many as I used to, though. What really helps me is to go to the safest place I know."

"Where's that?"

Patrick stood, hoisting Liam and Bunny up with him. Liam was really too big to carry, but Patrick decided he could manage. "Mommy's arms."

He'd seen light in the hallway, so Teresa must have turned on a lamp in their room. She always woke up if either of the kids made a noise in the night. So he didn't hesitate to carry Liam into the master bedroom, where sure enough, Teresa was sitting up in bed looking concerned. She stretched out her arms, and Patrick was reminded of how she used to do that when he carried one of their tiny babies in for her to nurse. The memory made him smile as he lowered Liam into her lap.

"Bad dream, sweetie?" she murmured as she cuddled her son. Her voice was warm and sympathetic, and Patrick thought for about the hundred thousandth time what a wonderful mother she was. He'd always known she would be, of course, from the way she handled her team and interacted with the kids they encountered in cases. But the reality of it far surpassed his estimation, and he was struck all over again by his astonishing good fortune that this amazing woman had let him into her life and, even more incredibly, her heart.

He bent to kiss her, mostly because she was irresistible with bedhead, but partly because he wanted to reassure Liam that he loved her. Both the kids needed to know that, and he would make sure to seize every opportunity to demonstrate it. He didn't want any of them to doubt their place in his heart.

Teresa glanced up at him in concern, which he realized was because it was one a.m. and he was still dressed. "I'm going to check on Victoria," he said softly.

His daughter was awake, but barely, so he scooped her up and brought her to her mother and brother. She snuggled up beside them with a yawn, and Patrick smiled down at his family before going over to his side of the bed. He lifted the covers, then stopped as Teresa gave him a warning look. Ah. She was big on Setting An Example, and if the kids got the idea that they could wear their clothes to bed, he would never hear the end of it.

He grabbed his pajamas from beneath his pillow and went to the bathroom to change. When he came back, Teresa was lying on her side, her arm resting protectively over both children, so he bent to kiss her cheek, then leaned over her to kiss both kids. Then he switched off the lamp and made his way around the bed from memory.

He settled himself on his side facing them, stretching out his hand until he found Teresa's. Then he laced his fingers in hers, secure in the knowledge that his family was safe and, for the moment, content.

mmm

The sun was up, but just barely, when Teresa woke to an empty bed. She hadn't slept well; the kids were restless sleepers, which was part of why they weren't allowed to sleep with their parents normally. But yesterday had been anything but normal. She wondered if Patrick had carried them back to their rooms or if they were all up, hopefully making breakfast. And coffee. She needed coffee.

As she neared the kitchen, she smelled pancakes and, blessedly, coffee. When she entered, Patrick handed her a mug full, smiling at her. "Morning, Sunshine," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "Pancakes?"

She glanced into the dining room at the kids, still in their pajamas and sitting at the table eating what looked like chocolate chip pancakes, Victoria's favorite. "Sure. But no chocolate chips."

"I have fresh strawberries for yours," he assured her. "And whipped cream."

She had to smile at his sly grin, remembering all the fun they'd had in the past with whipped cream. Not since the kids were old enough to wander at night, though.

Patrick winked at her. "I made extra. For your day off."

She was glad to see him in a playful mood after his rough night. Taking a fortifying sip of coffee, she set the mug down so she could link her arms around his neck and give him a long, leisurely kiss. He set his spatula down and held her tightly against him until the smell of burning pancakes made him pull away to attend to his cooking.

"Daddy, stop burning them!" Victoria commanded, appearing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "It smells terrible!"

"I know," Patrick replied, flipping the burned pancake into the trash in a graceful arc. "Ready for more, princess? You'll have to wait until I get a stack done for Mommy."

"No, do hers first," Teresa said. "I'll finish my coffee. In the other room, so I don't distract you. Ready for your big day, sweetie?"

Victoria pouted a little as they left the kitchen, Teresa pausing to give her husband a quick pat on his cute butt. She was not quite out of reach when he retaliated with the spatula, so she shot a mock glare over her shoulder, failing to dim his amused grin even a little.

"I need to practice," Victoria said. "Then I'll be ready."

"You've been practicing for weeks, haven't you?" Teresa pointed out. "Good morning, Liam."

"Morning, Mommy," he replied, intent on drawing patterns in the syrup on his plate.

"But I messed up yesterday. I have to get it right," Victoria said.

Teresa smiled. "You're a natural. You were dancing almost as soon as you could walk. Your daddy used to stand you up on this table and dance with you when you were little." She probably had video somewhere, although that was two—or maybe three—phones ago. "You would laugh and laugh, and daddy would laugh too." She called the sweet memories to mind wistfully.

"But I don't want to be laughed at," Victoria protested.

"Not at, honey. With. And I'm sure nobody will laugh at you today," she said. "I can't wait to see you up on stage in your pretty costume."

"You're really coming, right?" Victoria looked at her with pleading eyes, and Teresa felt guilt sink her stomach. She'd missed preschool graduation because of a hostage situation in a bank and been late to the twins' first soccer game because of a shooting on the grounds of the Capitol complex.

"I'll be there," she replied, but she didn't promise. She never wanted to promise her children anything she might not be able to give. "And Daddy's going to make a video so you can see it too when we get home."

Patrick came in with a stack of chocolate chip pancakes for the kids and the coffee pot to give Teresa a refill. "Yours are on the griddle," he told her. "Then the princess and I are going to get dressed and head out. Liam, do you want to come with us or come later with Mommy?"

"I'll stay with Mommy," Liam replied, looking up.

"Great," Teresa said, hoping no one noticed her hesitation. She'd intended to get some work done before heading to the ballet school, but if Patrick was intent on indulging the kids' every whim, she would let him, at least until they were feeling more secure.

"Wise choice," Patrick said, smiling at his son as he went back to the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a tall stack of pancakes topped with strawberries and whipped cream, with extra strawberries in a bowl. He popped one into his mouth before heading back to the kitchen.

"So, what would you like to do this morning?" Teresa asked her son. "Go for a walk?"

"Can we go to the dog park?"

"Sure." Inwardly, she grimaced. The kids had started campaigning for a dog lately, and she didn't want a dog in the apartment. But the few conversations she and Patrick had managed about getting a house had been inconclusive. He was probably picturing something along the lines of his last house, something big and showy, while she didn't see how she could possibly feel at home in such a place.

Besides, this apartment was the scene of their entire married life, including their wedding night. It was where Patrick had brought her home after her kidnapping and taken devoted care of her during her rough first trimester. This was where they'd brought their babies home, where they'd learned to crawl, walk, talk. Moving would be disruptive, especially to Liam, who was so sensitive to his surroundings. And she was so far behind at work that she didn't see how she could devote time and energy to house hunting.

_It's just one morning_, she told herself. And better that she deal with any pleas for a dog; if Patrick was feeling guilty about springing a dead sister on the kids, she could well come home to a Great Dane. Or two.

So while Patrick went off to the ballet school an hour earlier than the performance call to dance his daughter around the stage and teach her calming breathing exercises, Teresa took her son to the dog park to get his fix. Maybe this was a good thing, she told herself as they walked the block from the apartment. If he was having nightmares about bad men, then reminding him that most people were nice would be reassuring.

His favorite collie, Remi, was there, along with his owners, a lovely young couple who had moved into the building last year and adored Liam. Teresa had to admit she'd enjoy a friendly, well-trained dog like Remi, but she wondered if even the best trained dog in the world would stay that way left to the care of Patrick and the kids. After a month, it would probably get used to having a place set for it at the table and be ridiculously overweight.

After an hour, they went back home to get ready for the recital. Teresa listened to Liam talking about how smart Remi was and reflected that he was both the easier child to deal with and the one she worried about more. Victoria's every feeling was written on her face, but Liam seemed to have a lot going on in his head that he didn't share. Patrick claimed he was just like her, but she thought Liam had a lot of his father in him too. She wasn't a brooder, after all.

They were a little late leaving, since she got distracted by a call from one of her teams with a hot lead. She gave the go-ahead, reminding Giffords to approach the suspect with caution, given his history, and then tried not to appear anxious while she drove to the ballet school. She had trouble finding parking—the lot was full, since apparently everyone else had gotten here early. She and Liam practically jogged the two blocks between the car and the school, and they had to push their way through a crowd standing near the doors, unable to find seats.

"There's Daddy," Liam said, tugging at her sleeve, and she saw with relief that Patrick had managed to save two seats beside him near the front on the aisle. As they approached, she could see him texting and felt her phone vibrate.

"Sorry," she said as they sat down.

He smiled at them in relief. "I was about to sell these seats. I could have made enough to pay for lunch."

"There's no parking. Wow. I didn't expect such a turnout." She looked around the room in amazement.

"Neither did the school," Patrick said.

That was all they had time to say before the house lights went down and the recital began. The youngest dancers went first, so Victoria was in the first group. Whatever practicing she'd done that morning had paid off; she didn't miss a step. Teresa found herself grinning as she clapped hard at the end, giving a little wave as Victoria looked their way. She was so glad she was able to be here for this.

Victoria was onstage again at the very end, when all the students performed briefly together, and then it was over. Teresa was just thinking how grateful she was that her phone hadn't rung when she felt it vibrate. With a groan, she answered it, holding a hand to her free ear so she could hear in the noise of the milling crowd. "Lisbon."

"Boss, Kalinsky's been shot," Agent Jeff Giffords' voice sounded frantic. "I'm on my way to the hospital. It's bad."

"What happened?" she demanded. She glanced at Patrick, who had obviously guessed her day off was over.

Giffords said something about the suspect's brother and that his second in command, Parsons, had the scene under control. "Okay, I'll check in with him and meet you at the hospital. Have you called his wife? No? Okay, I'll do it. Call me if there's an update. See you in a few minutes." She hung up.

"Someone's hurt?" Patrick asked, concerned.

"Kalinsky. I need to go."

Victoria bounded up to them just then, beaming, and hurled herself at her father. "I did it, Daddy!"

"Yes, you did!" He beamed back at her, giving her a big hug. "See? I told you you'd be okay once you were out there."

She laughed, and Teresa smiled at her. "You did great, sweetheart. I'm really proud of you." She bent down to hug her daughter.

"And now we're going to McDonalds!" Victoria jumped up and down with excitement. Fast food was rare in the twins' lives, since their father had strong views about proper nutrition and food quality.

"Daddy's going to take you," Teresa agreed. "I have to go to work now."

"Mooooommeeeee," Victoria wailed.

Teresa felt terrible, looking at the three disappointed faces in front of her. But before she could say anything, Victoria's face lit up again, and she shouted, "Uncle Cho!"

Liam grinned and echoed the greeting as Cho finished pushing his way through the crowd. Teresa was alarmed, thinking something else had happened, until Cho smiled down at the kids and said, "I got here too late to get a seat. You were terrific, Victoria."

Teresa vaguely remembered mentioning the recital to him the day before. She was touched that he'd taken part of his rare day off to come support her daughter. But then, Cho enjoyed being an honorary uncle, and her kids adored him.

Patrick said, "Thanks for coming, Cho. Would you like to join us for lunch?"

"Depends. You're not going somewhere fussy, are you?"

Both twins replied, "McDonalds!"

Teresa said, "I'm sorry, guys, but I gotta go. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"You need help?" Cho asked, looking at her.

"No, I got this. Thanks, Cho." She smiled at him, then gave each of her family an apologetic glance before turning to make her way through the crowd.

mmm

Patrick was grateful for Cho's presence as they ate their paper-wrapped feast in the nearest McDonalds. He was a great distraction for the kids from their mother's absence, and their focus on him allowed Patrick time to text Teresa for an update. He only knew Kalinsky and Giffords in passing, but he very much hoped Kalinsky would be okay, if only for Teresa's sake.

_Still in surgery_, she texted back.

_Eat something_, he advised.

_I will when his wife does_, she responded.

"Daddy," Liam said during a pause in conversation, "did Charlotte have a dog?"

Patrick took note of Cho's rare look of surprise. He kept his voice calm as he said, "No. Her mother was afraid of dogs."

"But our mother isn't afraid of dogs," Liam said. "She likes dogs."

"Yes, I know," Patrick replied. "But we want a yard to have a dog. And that means moving."

Liam subsided, but Victoria said, "Then let's move."

"That's not so easy," Patrick replied. "Your mother and I love our apartment. And moving is hard."

"Did you hear Grace got promoted to the San Francisco field office?" Cho asked. "I bet they'll be moving soon. She won't want that commute."

That meant losing Rigsby, Patrick realized. They didn't see much of the Rigsby family these days, but Josh had been the kids' first friend, and they would miss him. "Good for her, but I'll be sad to see Rigsby go. So will Teresa."

"Yeah, me too." Cho took another bite of his Big Mac and swallowed, then said, "Hightower wants to see you. Nine a.m. Monday."

"Just me?"

"Just you. Don't get me in trouble," Cho instructed.

Patrick grinned. "You know I never do that on purpose."

"Uh huh," Cho said dryly. "So what are you guys doing this afternoon?"

"Let's go look at puppies!" Victoria exclaimed.

Cho's mouth twitched into a smile. "Now you're trying to get me in trouble. No way, kid."

"But why?" Victoria pouted.

Cho was only slightly less impervious to pouting than Teresa, Patrick was amused to note. Cho replied, "Because your mom is my boss, so I try not to make her upset with me. Besides, with you three troublemakers in the house, what do you need with a puppy?"

"No puppies," Patrick said firmly. "If we get a dog, it will be a well-mannered adult. Let's think of something to do that Uncle Cho might enjoy. We could go to the library and get new books."

"We just did that," Victoria said. "Mommy took us."

"The reason I asked," Cho said, "is that I've got tickets to a minor league baseball game today. I wondered if the kids would like to go. They could run the bases and meet the mascot."

"Kat's out of town again?"

"Yeah. Rigsby's bringing Ben and Josh. We thought it might be fun. You can come too, of course."

Patrick chuckled. "I see. You only hang out with me for my kids. What do you say, kids? Is it a baseball kind of day?"

"Yeah!" Liam said. He liked sports, and he liked hanging out with the Rigsby boys.

"I'm tired," Victoria said, looking up at her father dubiously.

He put an arm around her. "I'm not surprised, after all that dancing. Why don't we have a lazy day while Liam and Uncle Cho go have fun?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Thank Uncle Cho for inviting you, Victoria," he reminded her.

She gave Cho her prettiest smile, dimpled like her mother's. "Thank you for inviting me, Uncle Cho. And for coming to my show."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling back.

Patrick reflected, not for the first time, that his daughter was going to have boys following her around in a herd when she started dating. Which he was hoping would be around age twenty-eight. He turned to Liam to make sure his son was okay with the arrangements, but Liam was smiling too.

"Thank you for letting me come, Uncle Cho," he said.

"Sure, kid. It'll be fun."

mmm

Teresa was exhausted when she dragged herself into the apartment at seven that evening, only to discover a disaster area. There was evidence of a tea party, a blanket fort, a pillow fight, and a picnic dinner—and that was just in the living room. Moving cautiously through the debris, she made her way to the master bedroom to find her kids on the floor watching a cartoon movie on TV and her husband passed out on the bed, snoring. Liam was, mysteriously, wearing a baseball cap from the Sacramento River Cats, while Victoria was still wearing her tutu. At least there wasn't a dog, as far as she could tell.

"Hey," she said quietly. "How was your day?"

"Uncle Cho took me to a baseball game!" Liam said as Victoria said, "I played make believe with Daddy!"

"Sounds like fun," she replied. "But you forgot to clean up."

"But Mommy, we're watching the movie!" Victoria protested.

Teresa moved so she could see the screen. "You've seen that a dozen times at least. And what did you do to your father?" Patrick never slept while the kids were still up, to her knowledge. And he'd been awake an hour ago when Kalinsky had come out of surgery, because he'd replied to her text.

Her impulse was to wake her husband and turn off the TV and insist that those who made messes had to clean them up. But then she remembered that Patrick had barely slept last night, on top of two weeks of sleep deprivation, and that the twins had been through the emotional wringer yesterday. The mess could wait.

"We wore him out," Liam said. "Well, Victoria did. I only got home an hour ago."

"Did you get enough to eat at dinner?"

"Uh huh," Victoria said.

"I had a hot dog and popcorn and a Coke at the game. And an ice cream," Liam reported. "And Cracker Jacks."

Uncle Cho was a big softie, Teresa thought fondly. "Well, I'm glad you had fun," she said. She really wanted to lie down beside Patrick and lose consciousness, but if she did that, the kids wouldn't go to bed on time and then they'd be cranky for Mass in the morning. "When the movie's over, it's time for baths and bed."

"Okay," came the reluctant chorus.

She sat down on the bed and turned on her laptop to get some work done, managing to get through a report before the movie ended and she went to get the baths started. She was sleepy herself by the time she finished the bedtime story.

Bedtime prayers were a pretty good way to gauge what was on the kids' minds, so she listened carefully. Both mentioned their sister in heaven, but they also remembered Uncle Cho, and Liam included the Rigsbys as well. She hoped that meant they were beginning to incorporate Charlotte into their concept of normal.

When the kids were safely tucked in, she went to double check that the door was locked and the alarm set, then got into her sleepwear. She was too tired to concentrate on work, so she decided to get up a little early instead, and set her cell phone alarm accordingly. She'd need to check in with Giffords about Kalinsky anyway.

Patrick was still deeply asleep on top of the covers, but it was a mild night, so she let him sleep. She did indulge herself in a quick good night kiss, pleased when he murmured her name as she pulled away to turn off the lamp. Then she snuggled up to him, closed her eyes, and fell asleep almost instantly.


	5. Future Plans

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay on this! I took a business trip and suffered from altitude sickness, including throwing up in a Board meeting. It was all too much for my muse, who packed her bags immediately. But we were reunited at home, so hopefully I'll be able to post more regularly from now on. And for season 6 so far, I can only say, Wow. I'm speechless!

**Chapter 5: Future Plans**

Patrick was still asleep when Teresa's alarm went off, and he didn't wake while she worked, showered, or spoke to Giffords while fixing cereal for the kids. Usually they had a big brunch after they got home from Mass, but maybe today they'd go out instead. Patrick obviously was exhausted, and school was ending soon, so he'd need his energy.

They'd also have to have a serious discussion soon about whether the kids were ready for first grade. Since they had a December birthday, they were the youngest in their class, only in kindergarten because their preschool teacher had declared them too advanced for another preschool year last spring. But Teresa was worried they might not be emotionally or socially ready for first grade, despite how bright they were.

It was a good problem to have, she supposed, and it wasn't unexpected. Patrick had a brilliant mind, so she'd always suspected their children wouldn't be average, and they'd had the benefit of his presence and instruction throughout their lives. They both had memory palaces under construction and an extensive vocabulary for their ages, and she had no doubt that they'd become sharp observers of human behavior as they matured.

That was part of why she was so determined to give them a firm religious foundation. If they were going to be the smartest people in the room most of the time, they needed to be taught to use that for good, not for selfish ends. She thought that was why Patrick had agreed to let her raise them in the church, because he wanted them to have a sound moral footing but had no idea how to go about that from his own upbringing.

After the service, she took the kids to one of the chapels to light votive candles, slipping a few bills in the box and handing each of the kids a dollar so they could join her. Today she was praying especially for Kalinsky and his teammates, but also for Patrick to regain his equilibrium and for her children to feel safe and loved. As Liam and Victoria prayed beside her, she heard the name Charlotte whispered, along with Daddy, and was grateful for her children's good hearts.

She knew Patrick was up the moment she opened the door and smelled bacon. As the kids ran to the kitchen to see what treats were in store, she called, "Change your clothes before you eat anything!"

"Cheesy bacon potatoes!" Victoria cried in delight, and Teresa's stomach growled at the mention of her favorite dish. She was nearly trampled as the kids hurried to their rooms to get out of their dress clothes so they could eat.

Patrick was just lifting an egg and sausage casserole out of the oven as she entered. "I really missed your brunches," she said.

"I know," he grinned, setting the casserole down and kissing her. "Thanks for letting me sleep. I must have been wiped out."

"Yes, you were. You okay, Patrick?" She looked closely at him.

"Right as rain," he responded. "How are you? Is Kalinsky okay?"

"He's hanging in there," she sighed. "We should know more later today."

Patrick put his arms around her, and she leaned her head against him, soaking up his comfort. "I'm so glad you're not in the field anymore," he murmured.

She hugged him a little tighter. She'd accepted the promotion for the sake of her family, because she thought it wasn't fair to force Patrick to routinely face losing another wife and to risk leaving her children motherless. But this was the first time she truly felt it had been the right decision for herself as well. She loved being with her family and having time for them, even if it was interrupted sometimes, and she was grateful not to have to imagine Patrick sitting at home worrying about her and trying to hide it from the kids.

"And I'm glad you aren't out very often," she said. "And that it's Cho looking out for you. If he ever leaves, you'll have to quit, because I don't trust anybody else with you."

He chuckled. "Duly noted." He gave her a last squeeze and then let her go so he could stir the hollandaise sauce.

"Oh my God, is that for eggs Benedict?" she exclaimed.

"What else would I serve my wife when she's having a rough weekend?" he smiled.

Sometimes she wondered how her arrogant, irritating consultant had turned into such a considerate husband. Maybe he was trying to make up for all those years of causing trouble. Or maybe he was just happier now.

"I could mix you a mimosa if you like," he offered.

"No thanks. Coffee will be just fine." She smiled and began gathering dishes to set the table.

mmm

They had a nice relaxing afternoon together, going for a walk in the park to enjoy the beautiful weather and then playing board games. Patrick knew it was old fashioned, but he'd never enjoyed video games, and family game time was an excellent way for him to gauge his family's moods. Teresa got even more competitive when she was stressed, for instance, and the kids' level of concentration or distraction told him volumes about their states of mind. Since his happiness depended on whether the three of them were happy, he had found that it was in his interest to pay close attention and address any problems before they could fester.

Their relaxing afternoon drifted into a quiet night, the kids watching TV while Teresa worked on her laptop and Patrick alternated between reading and trying to distract her. Her phone rang just as she gave the kids their ten-minute warning for bedtime, and she grimaced as she answered. "Lisbon. Oh, that's great. I'll be by in the morning. You get some rest. Good night."

"Kalinsky?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah, he woke up. Looks like he'll be okay. Thank God."

"I'm glad to hear it. I can take the kids to school tomorrow if you want to go by the hospital before work. I have to get an early start anyway, since Madeleine wants to see me at nine."

"She does? What for?"

"Cho didn't say, but since he wasn't invited it can't be anything too serious. She probably just wants to know that I'm not having a nervous breakdown," he replied.

Teresa snorted. "Like she'd be able to tell from talking to you for half an hour. Try not to do anything that will make her unhappy. Stuff runs downhill, you know."

He grinned at her sanitized phrasing, glancing at the kids. They appeared to be glued to the TV, but he knew from experience that they frequently heard things their parents would have preferred they didn't. "Cho said much the same thing. I promise to do my best not to cause trouble for either of you."

Liam looked over his shoulder and said, "Uncle Cho says we should get a cat instead of a dog because they are less work."

Patrick smiled. "I'm fine with that, but your mother is a dog person."

"I am a dog person when I have a yard to let it out in when it needs to go out in the middle of the night," she said. "I can't say I'm wild about litter box duty either."

"That is a household chore, and I'm willing to add it to my list instead of yours," Patrick offered. He found cats interesting; some of them had a wily intelligence and might prove good company. A cat wouldn't contribute to their safety like a dog, though, which was at least half the reason he was in favor of getting one. And most of the reason he didn't want to move. Their building was reasonably secure, and a single family home would be more difficult to secure against intruders. They had heard nothing from any of Red John's followers for a couple of years now, but he could never forget there were still some lurking out there, possibly with intentions toward his wife or children.

"We'll talk about it later," Teresa said, which they all knew was code for "no." It wasn't non-negotiable, though. She just hated to be ganged up on, so he would bring it up later when the kids weren't around. "Right now it's bedtime. TV off."

Victoria whined a little, but one look at her mother's expression sent her off to her room, and soon Patrick was left in sole possession of the living room. This was usually his "me time," but tonight he found he didn't need it. So he got up off the couch and went to be with his family.

mmm

Teresa headed for the hospital early the next morning, so Patrick got the kids off to school and headed for the Capitol, only a couple of minutes late for his meeting with Madeleine Hightower.

Her assistant waved him in, and he smiled as he went in the door. Hightower had completely redone the office, so it was a much brighter, more welcoming space than when Bertram inhabited it. She was a little irritated that he was late, so she made him wait while she finished typing something before looking up and saying, "Patrick, have a seat. Thanks for coming by."

He grinned at her, relaxing into one of the chairs and making sure his body language was open. He hadn't seen the point in dressing up for a short meeting, so he was wearing jeans and a light sweater. He wasn't one of her employees, and he found it useful to make that point from time to time. "How have you been, Madeleine?" he asked.

"One of my agents was nearly killed this weekend, so I've been better," she replied.

"I know. Teresa went to the hospital this morning to talk to him. She's been very worried."

"Yes, we all have." Hightower folded her hands together, resting her elbows on the desk. "And we've been worried about you, too. How are you doing?"

"Fine, now that I'm home." Ooops, he thought. If he wanted her to give Teresa a day off, he needed to convince her he wasn't fine. "Although I'm still having nightmares. And I snapped at Victoria the other day, except I called her Charlotte. So it's been an...interesting weekend at our house."

"You told the kids? How did they take it?" Hightower looked concerned. She concealed it better, but she was every bit as much a mama bear as Teresa.

"Not great. I wasn't exactly prepared to do it that day," he admitted. "But Teresa helped them when she got home. It's going to take a while for them to process it. Liam's had some bad dreams, and Victoria's feeling a little insecure."

"That's to be expected," Hightower said. "I'm sure they'll be fine. You and Lisbon are doing a great job with them."

"Thank you."

"The kids are actually part of what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "They'll be in first grade in the fall, won't they?"

"Yes." Teresa had concerns, but he saw no reason to hold them back. They had no trouble with the schoolwork, and they had made friends easily enough. Besides, he could help them navigate socially if any problems arose. Just because he didn't always observe the social norms didn't mean he was unaware of them.

"Have you thought about coming back to work on a more regular basis?" She leaned back in her chair.

"Not really."

"Oh, come on, Patrick. You can't expect me to believe you're intellectually fulfilled cooking, cleaning, and going to soccer games." She smiled a little. "Or are you passing the time perfecting your plan for world domination?"

Patrick laughed. "Dominating the world would be much too annoying. I do think, however, that Victoria would make an excellent president, especially with Liam as her chief of staff and policy mastermind. Don't tell Teresa I said so, though. She doesn't want me filling the kids' heads with grandiose ideas."

Hightower smiled. "I have absolutely no doubt that if your children decided to run this country, they could do it. And do it well. But right now I'm interested in your career plans, not theirs."

"I plan to continue looking after my family to the best of my ability," he said. "Nothing is more important to me than that." Perhaps only someone who had lost a family could understand his absolute determination to take care of his second one.

"But your work saves lives. We need you here."

"Madeleine, I just got back from the second worst case of my career. This is probably not the best time to convince me to come back to work every day. What I need is a day alone with my wife, who is by far the best medicine for what ails me. Give me that and we'll talk."

Hightower gave him a long, measuring look. "I suppose it's useless to appeal to your better nature."

"Yes."

"You know that Lisbon is behind on her workload. How about instead of making her further behind, I offer to watch your kids on Saturday?"

"She doesn't see enough of them as it is. I don't want to cut into her time with them."

Hightower sighed. "Agree to come back to work part time, mornings only, once school starts again, and Lisbon will have her day off."

"Resorting to naked extortion, Madeleine? You can't possibly think I'll allow that to pass unchallenged," he grinned.

"Just fighting fire with fire. You did the same thing when you forced me to put Lisbon on indefinite leave before you'd take the last case."

Patrick had to admit that was true. "You know, I think she enjoyed her time with the kids. I've been wondering how she'd take the idea of early retirement."

Hightower laughed. "She would murder you in a week."

Okay, he'd overreached there. Hightower knew Lisbon almost as well as he did by now; she saw her about as much as he did, after all. "Not after her recent stint as a single parent."

"True. But Lisbon's not the type to retire. She'll die with her boots on."

Patrick let his wince show, gratified by the immediate apologetic expression on Hightower's face. "Maybe. I hope not." He had plans for after the kids were grown, mostly involving exotic beaches.

"You'll see more of her if you come back to work."

He grinned at her desperate tactic. "Yes, but most of it will be her lecturing me about protocol and refusing to kiss me in the office. Not exactly quality time." He sobered. "What's this about, Madeleine? You must have a reason for doing this now, even though you know the timing stinks. Something wrong? Solve rates down?"

"A bit, yes, but I attribute that to having my best Supervising Agent out of commission for the past two weeks." She leaned forward. "There's been a lot of media attention to your last case."

"Pedophile serial killers tend to attract that," he replied. "I haven't granted any interviews, and I don't intend to."

"And that's the problem. They want to talk to the man who caught the bastard. After a case like this, parents get spooked."

"Yes, we do," Patrick agreed.

"And they want to know what to look for. How you spotted him."

He frowned. "Every killer is different. And I have absolutely no interest in drawing attention to myself or my family. Cho can tell them everything I figured out."

She sighed. "I thought you'd say that. Look. We've also had an interest from other law enforcement agencies about your services, since you're not under contract to us. If you want me to, I will give them your contact information, but I hope you will make us a priority."

Patrick couldn't help a chuckle. "Relax, Madeleine. Teresa won't let me in the field without Cho or Rigsby to look after me. I have no interest in other clients. I won't come back to work on a regular basis until the kids are older, but I won't go elsewhere, either. I'll be here if you need me."

Hightower smiled, then rolled her eyes as he spoke again.

"Provided, of course, that you let Teresa have her day off. Because otherwise I might get bored and start entertaining proposals, and the only way I could accept any of them would be to take either her or Cho with me. Or both." He folded his arms, confident that he'd won this round.

"Fine. If she puts in a leave request, I'll approve it."

Patrick got to his feet. "A pleasure doing business with you, Madeleine, as always. Why don't you and the kids join us for Sunday brunch someday soon?"

"We'd love to. I'll let you know when," she replied. "And Patrick—"

He turned back to her. "Yes?"

"Good work. And strictly off the record, thanks for arranging things to spare us all a trial."

He looked down, then at her. "That," he said softly, "was purely selfish."


	6. Standoff

**Author's Note: **Thanks for supporting this story, even though it's been mostly fluff so far. For those of you who have found that ominous, you know me too well, apparently! But don't worry, no cliffhangers here. I think the show itself is causing enough stress without my adding to it. :)

**Chapter**** 6: Standoff**

Monday was soccer practice afternoon. It was a beautiful day, and Patrick enjoyed the time spent on the bleachers watching his children play while the birds sang and a few bees investigated the early blooming flowers. The only way the afternoon could be more perfect, he decided, was if Teresa joined them. He wondered what his chances were of convincing her to play hooky and pulled out his cell phone.

His call ended in her voicemail, which meant she was probably in a meeting. He sent her a text asking her to call him when she had a moment, but there was no response to that either. She must be swamped.

His phone rang as he was herding the kids into the car, and he nearly dropped it in his haste to answer. But it wasn't Teresa. "Cho," he said, managing a hearty tone. "What are you doing on this fine day?"

"I'm at the hospital. There's a situation."

That seemed unusually vague for Cho. "And you need my help? I'm with the kids right now."

"I know. I just didn't want you to see it on the news."

Like he ever watched the news with five-year-olds in the house, Patrick thought in surprise. Then his stomach dropped, and he turned away from the car. There could only be one reason Cho thought he needed to be informed if he wasn't wanted on the case. "Lisbon's there?" He spoke softly and used her last name so the kids wouldn't make the connection.

"Yeah. The guy who shot Kalinsky was the suspect's brother. He got out on bail and apparently decided to go finish the job. Lisbon was there helping Kalinsky with some insurance stuff, and now there's a standoff."

"Is she hurt?" He tried to control his breathing.

"We don't think so. We're working on getting eyes in the room. I'll call you when we know something. Just sit tight." Cho hung up.

Patrick put his phone back in his pocket and took a deep breath, making sure his hands were steady before he turned back to the car. Victoria had left her seat and was digging around in one of the storage compartments, while Liam had buckled himself in and was watching his father.

"Victoria, sit down, or no ice cream for you," he threatened. There was no way they were going straight home; he needed to keep them all distracted. Every cell in his body wanted to go to the hospital, but he couldn't take the kids there, and the people he trusted to look after them needed to focus on getting Lisbon out unscathed. He had to just keep going, pretending everything was normal.

It would be the act of his life.

mmm

An hour and a half later, he got a text from Rigsby: _Lisbon's okay. Trying to talk the guy out of it. Hostage negotiator and SWAT on scene. You okay?_

How could he possibly be okay? he thought incredulously. _Fixing dinner. Bring my wife home and you can have some._

_Working on it._

Patrick put his phone back in his pocket and rubbed at his face, breathing into his hands and reminding himself how good Teresa was with people and how many tight spots she had gotten out of in her career. She would get out of this one too.

Of course, before, he'd almost always been there with her.

Patrick jumped a little as a pair of arms slid around his waist, and he glanced down to see Liam looking up at him worriedly. "You okay, Daddy?"

"Yeah. Yeah, buddy, thanks." Patrick rubbed at his back.

After a moment, Liam whispered, "Is Mommy okay?"

"Yes. She's just working tonight, so we're having dinner without her." He was grateful that his voice remained calm. She was all right; Rigsby had just told him so, and he wouldn't lie about that. And Rigsby and Cho would stop at nothing to get her out safe. "Do you want to set the table?"

"Uh huh." Liam brightened; he liked being helpful, and his mother didn't allow the kids to set the table yet because she was afraid they'd break the dishes.

Patrick got three plates out of the cupboard and set them in his son's outstretched hands, then turned back to the stove to stir the pasta sauce. Comfort food was called for tonight. It also had the advantage of being simple to fix and something the kids would eat without a battle, even with the zucchini and other vegetables thrown in with the meatballs.

They had an unusually quiet meal, though Victoria supplied some conversation with her observations about her friend Isabella's newly pierced ears and how much she would like to get some earrings herself. Patrick would have indulged her if he didn't suspect it would make Teresa's head explode. "We'll have to ask your mother," he said.

Victoria pouted, already aware of her mother's views on what was appropriate for little girls. "But all the girls in my class have them!"

"Hannah doesn't," Patrick pointed out. "And I don't think Sallie does either, does she?"

"Daddy," Victoria complained.

"Well, you said everybody. I was just reminding you that wasn't accurate," he replied. Then he turned to Liam and grinned. "And what about you, young man? Are you wanting your ears pierced too?"

"Why?" Liam asked, puzzled. "I don't want any holes in me. Yuck." He slurped up a noodle, splattering sauce on his cheeks.

"Napkin, Liam," Patrick reminded him. "Victoria, start with less on your fork before you twirl it. Then you won't look like a boa constrictor trying to eat a pony."

Both kids giggled at the image, and then Victoria said, "If we don't get a dog, can we get a pony?"

"Maybe, but it wouldn't live with us, you know. Did I ever tell you I got Mommy a pony once?" He remembered the delight in her eyes, and his heart ached with longing to see her.

He told the story, exaggerating only a little bit and enjoying their laughter. When he was finished, Victoria asked, "Did Charlotte have a pony, Daddy?"

"No. But she wanted one." He wished now that he'd given in, no matter Angela's objections. "But you have to go to riding school and make sure you're ready to look after a pony first."

"When can I go? This summer?"

"I don't know if you're old enough. I'll find out," he promised.

"I can do it," she declared firmly. The set of her jaw reminded him of Teresa, and he smiled, ignoring the way his stomach was roiling with anxiety.

When his phone buzzed, he grabbed for it. But it was only Grace. He swallowed his disappointment before speaking. "Hi, Grace. What's up?"

"Wayne told me what's going on. Do you want me to come watch the kids?"

He could have wept with gratitude. "I would greatly appreciate it."

"I'll be there in twenty." She hung up.

Both kids were looking at him curiously, so he said, "Good news. Aunt Grace is coming over to play with you so I can go out with Mommy."

"But Mommy's working," Victoria said.

"Yes, but she and I like to work together. I'm going to go surprise her," he said cheerfully.

They looked dubious. Liam said, "Mommy hates surprises."

"Not all of them."

Liam shrugged. "Are Josh and Ben coming?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out in a few minutes."

When Patrick opened the door nearly half an hour later, Grace had only baby Emma with her, snug in her carrier and fast asleep. "Where are the boys?" he asked.

"It's Sarah's night with Ben, and when I told her what was happening she offered to take Josh too," she replied. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine. The kids don't know," he said quietly, grateful that the Rigsbys had managed such a good relationship with Ben's mother. Of course, the fact that the half-brothers adored each other helped. He wondered fleetingly what that would mean for Grace's promotion, but right now he was focused on his own family.

"Got it. Bedtime still at eight?"

"Yes. Thank you, Grace," he said fervently. "I hope you're hungry. There's a ton of spaghetti."

"Oh, good. It was all I could do to get the kids fed and out the door," she replied as he led her into the dining room.

"Aunt Grace!" the twins chorused, jumping up for hugs.

"You two behave for Aunt Grace," Patrick said firmly. "No arguing about bedtime. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," they replied.

"Good night hugs," he instructed, kneeling and spreading his arms. He closed his eyes as he held them and kissed the tops of their heads, promising himself he would be back soon, with their mother safely by his side.

mmm

He found Cho and Rigsby right where he expected to, at the center of the action. He recognized many of the other law enforcement officers gathered around as well; the ones who knew him let him through with sympathetic expressions.

"Go home," Cho told him.

"How is she?" It had been almost four hours since Cho's initial call. While it was good nobody was shooting yet, he was worried they were at an impasse.

"She's fine. Still talking. We got ears in through the ventilation system." Rigsby handed Jane a pair of headphones, and he held them up to one ear.

Hearing Teresa's voice immediately made him calmer. She was speaking very softly, but he could make out that she was telling a story about her brothers.

"What's his story?" Patrick asked. "Trying to help his brother? How does shooting Kalinsky come into it?"

Rigsby muttered, "He's a nut job. Who knows what he's thinking?"

"Even nut jobs act rationally, according to their interpretation of reality," Patrick said. "Is he trying to get his brother released?"

"Yeah," Cho said. "Lisbon's keeping him talking. So far he hasn't wanted to talk to anyone else. She relayed his demands earlier, and we've been stalling while we try to get a good line of sight into the room. No luck yet though. And we've got patients on that corridor who can't be moved. Going in isn't a good option."

"Is she armed?" Patrick stared at the grainy black and white images of his wife, sitting in a chair beside Kalinsky's bed. The angle was indeed bad; he couldn't see the gunman at all.

"Not anymore. He made her give him her gun." Cho crossed his arms and stared at Patrick, trying to work out what he was thinking.

"She'll have two." Motherhood and a promotion hadn't lessened Teresa's affinity for firearms.

"Okay," Cho said. "She won't start a shoot out in a hospital, though."

"No, she won't," Patrick agreed. "But if we distract him and give her a clear shot, she'll take it."

"Jane," Cho said, "you can't go in there. You should be home. Your kids need you. Let us handle this."

"That's my wife in there, Cho. There's no way I'm going anywhere."

Cho grimaced. "Stockwell, keep an eye on him. Don't let him near the door."

"Got it, Boss," Tim Stockwell replied, giving Patrick a rueful look. He'd come onto the team to replace Teresa after her promotion, so he'd known Patrick long enough to dread such an assignment.

Cho turned to talk to a hospital official, and Rigsby moved closer to Patrick. "Don't do it, man. Think about your kids. You go in there and she'll kill you herself."

He wasn't wrong; Patrick knew he owed it to his children not to put both their parents at risk. But none of them understood. They didn't know how broken he still was, how much he depended on Teresa to keep functioning on his bad days. Hell, even the good days.

He would just have to make sure the risks were minimal.

mmm

"Dammit, Jane, I could kill you with my bare hands!"

His wife was the one seething at him, but Cho's expression was saying exactly the same thing. Patrick discreetly took a step back, holding his hands up in a calming manner. "Now, now. No need for violence. Everyone made it out unscathed; no need to incur casualties now, is there?"

"Yes," Cho said firmly, crossing his arms.

"Definitely," Teresa agreed, unconsciously mirroring Cho's posture. "But not in front of the press. Cho, go hold them off. I'll be right there."

Cho shot Patrick another glare and moved off. Teresa took a step closer and lowered her voice. "Who has the kids?"

"Grace," he replied, a little indignant that she thought he would be careless with the twins.

"Go home," she hissed. "Now. We will talk about this later."

It seemed grossly unfair that his reward for saving her wasn't a kiss or even a hug, both of which he very much wanted after being so worried about her. But her body language was that of a spitting cobra, so he resigned himself to banishment.

"Fine," he said. There was no point in arguing with her in this state. When she calmed down, he might have a chance of convincing her he'd acted reasonably. "See you at home." Where he would have a large mug of hot cocoa laced with brandy waiting for her.

He headed for his car, dawdling long enough to hear Teresa begin her statement to the press.

"Parker Wells was arrested tonight after a standoff with police, which ended when he was distracted by a commotion in the hallway, enabling CBI Agent Leonard Kalinsky, although badly wounded, to disarm him."

Really, she wasn't going to mention his brilliant ruse at all? "A commotion" hardly did it justice. Besides, he'd flung the coffee tray into the room, so it hadn't technically been in the hall. And she should take credit for the disarming part, too—she'd kicked the gun out of Wells' hand after he started shooting. He'd been busy ducking and scurrying away, but he'd seen that much. Kalinsky had picked the gun up, but that didn't count as disarming.

He decided that staying here poking holes in her statement was unlikely to be useful. Going home and making sure the kids were snug in their beds when she got there would be much better.

mmm

Grace had the news on when he got home, so there was no need to tell her what had happened. She gave him a big smile and a hug, then asked, "How mad is she?"

"Oh, pretty mad," he replied with a smile he didn't feel. "And I think Cho is deciding where to stash my body. How are the kids?"

"Bedtime was a little rough. They really wanted to stay up until you got home. But they're asleep now."

Only a true coward would consider waking his children to use them as human shields, he thought regretfully. "Thank you for doing this, Grace. I appreciate it. But you may want to avoid Teresa for a while."

She grinned. "Yeah, I bet. Sounds like you were up to your old tricks."

"Meh. Nobody got hurt. I knew she'd have a second gun. But a few shots get fired and everybody freaks out."

Grace gave him a look. "How many of those were in your direction?"

"Five. I think."

She shook her head. "Next time I babysit, I'll be sure to ask you who the kids' guardians are first. One of Lisbon's brothers?"

"James," he replied. "I take your point, Grace. But nobody got hurt."

"Mm hm." She smiled, then said, "I'm glad you're both okay. I'll just get Emma packed up and maybe I can beat Wayne home."

"Oh, I set aside some of Victoria's old clothes I thought you might use," he remembered. "They're in the den."

Grace brightened. "Oh, thank you!"

"It's not like we have any use for them," he said as they headed in that direction. "And we don't have enough storage space to keep a lot of mementoes."

"You're not moving? There was a lot of dog talk at dinner."

"Not in the foreseeable future. Which reminds me, congratulations on the promotion. Are you planning to move?"

"We're still working that out. We won't go all the way to San Francisco, though. Too far from Ben's mom." She accepted the big shopping bag of clothes with delight. "Thanks. She'll be the best dressed kid in her daycare."

Patrick chuckled. "Yes, she will."

He helped her get Emma settled, marveling at how little the baby was and remembering when his children could fit in the crook of an arm. "She's so little," he murmured, smiling as the little girl grasped his finger.

"They get big fast," Grace agreed. She waited until Emma let go of him to yawn, then picked up the shopping bag, diaper bag, and carrier with baby.

"You got all that?" Patrick wanted to walk her to the car, but he couldn't leave the kids alone, even asleep.

"I'm good."

"Thanks again, Grace."

She shook her head. "It was no trouble. I know how I'd feel if it was Wayne."

"If it ever is, I've got your back," he promised.

"I know. Good night," she called over her shoulder as she left.

Patrick looked in on both kids, then did some cleaning up, though Grace hadn't left him much to do. Then he started making some homemade hot chocolate, more to keep busy than anything else. Teresa was apparently not in a hurry to get home, which meant she was trying to calm down. He hoped she'd succeed.

An hour passed. Patrick drank the hot chocolate and tried without success to read, wondering if she was delaying coming home until he gave up and went to bed. Then he spent some time with the computer, which he'd had to make peace with in order to cope with the kids' school paperwork, schedules, and teacher communications. A riding school outside of town recommended children begin lessons no younger than 6 or 7 because it required attention to safety rules. He decided that he'd sign Victoria up for lessons next summer and work on the dog issue in the meantime. Maybe Cho was on the right track with the cat idea. It might buy him some time, anyway.

Of course, the person he most needed to make happy was Teresa. He didn't understand why this should be any different than any of the situations he'd found himself in when he worked full time. It had just been awhile, he reassured himself. She'd get over it, but it might take her longer than he remembered.

It was past eleven when he finally heard her come in. He decided to let her come find him when she was ready, though he really wanted to go put his arms around her. But he stopped paging through the website of cats available for adoption from a local rescue group, not wanting to irritate her further.

He followed the sounds of her nighttime routine: guns going into the safe, safe being locked, jacket being thrown onto a chair and boots being thrown in the general direction of the closet. Then the sounds moved to the bathroom, lasting too long to be a simple face washing. She was showering, which she generally only did if she'd sweated or gotten dirty during the day.

He decided to turn down the bed for her, leaving a piece of chocolate on her pillow—her favorite milk chocolate rather than the dark he kept trying to get her to like because of its health benefits. Then he got into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, deciding to forego shaving since there was no chance of sex tonight.

He was just cleaning up after himself when Teresa stepped out of the shower. She gave him a once-over as she dried herself, then wrapped her wet hair in a towel and put on her pajamas.

"How's Kalinsky?" he asked, because that seemed a safe enough inquiry.

"He pulled some stitches, but he'll be fine," she replied. Her voice gave him no clue as to her mood, but the tension in her posture told him all he needed to know.

"Good. No bail for Wells this time, I hope."

"I think we can count on that," she agreed.

He leaned against the counter as she brushed her teeth. "Did you get dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," she said after she'd rinsed. "The kids okay?"

"Sound asleep. So feel free to yell at me all you like."

She sighed. "It never does any good to yell at you. I'm tired of wasting my breath. I'm going to bed."

Oh, this was bad. He reached out, and she stopped to avoid his touch. "I don't want to go to bed with you angry at me."

"I'm not angry," she said wearily.

"Disgusted, then."

She let out a sigh. "Disappointed."

"Tell me how I've disappointed you." Because really, he hadn't done anything she couldn't have predicted if she'd had time to think about it.

She grimaced, thinking over how she wanted to say what was on her mind. "When he was pointing that gun at me, I was worried about the kids, about what it would do to them if I died. But I knew they'd be okay because they'd have you. I thought that you would love and protect them, that I didn't have to worry about them. You promised me you'd do that, Patrick. You promised you'd be strong enough to go on for them."

The pain in her voice made his heart hurt. "I haven't broken that promise, Teresa."

"But you nearly orphaned our children today." She met his eyes. "How could you do that? Didn't you think of them?"

"Of course I did!" he protested. "I took a calculated risk. It wasn't on impulse. I knew you had a second gun, so as long as he fired his first shot anywhere but at you, you'd be safe because you'd take him down."

"It was still a risk, and one you didn't need to take. Our children would have had one parent no matter what happened if you had just stayed home with them!"

"But I might not have had my wife."

She rubbed at her forehead, a sure sign she was getting a headache. He continued, "Let's face it, Teresa: you are far more likely to be a good single parent than I am. You might even marry again. As hard as I would try to be a good father without you, I'd never recover from your death. You must know that."

It upset her to hear that, though he knew she had to have thought it before. She sucked in a breath, then repeated, "You promised me, Patrick. I'm a cop. I have a dangerous job. I want to know that my kids will be okay if something happens to me. I don't want you to take stupid chances and get yourself killed along with me. I love James, but he wouldn't know what to do with a couple of Janes."

He tried to lighten the mood. "We could name Cho instead."

His attempt at levity failed miserably. She grumbled, "I had to reprimand Cho for letting you on the scene. It was grossly unfair, but I had to do it. You owe him a huge apology."

"Which he will receive." He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she let him. "And I apologize to you also, love, for scaring you. But I didn't break my promise. In fact, I was keeping one."

"Oh?" She folded her arms.

He smiled. "You know I'm always going to save you, Lisbon. Whether you like it or not."

"You'd done something stupid and underhanded that time, too," she grumbled. "And I repeat: I don't need to be saved."

"Maybe not. But I needed to save you. And yes, I know we have to take the kids into account now, but that doesn't change the fact that I need you. And I will take any steps necessary to keep you with me."

She took a step closer to him and laid a hand on his cheek. "Patrick, this can't end in disaster. Not for the kids. Tell me you understand that."

"Of course I do." He slid his arms around her and held her gaze. "I gave you all of my heart I had left, Teresa. I don't know how to go on if I lose you too."

"You're forgetting, Patrick, that I gave you my heart in return. That I will love you beyond death. That is how."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I was scared today."

"I know. I was too," she whispered. "But you can't do stupid things just because you're scared. Next time, if there is a next time, I expect you to put the kids first."

He sighed. "I'll try. But I won't sit by and watch you in danger without trying to save you. You wouldn't if I was the one in trouble."

She couldn't argue with that, though as usual she wasn't going to give in gracefully. "It's late. We need to get some sleep. I have to go in early, so you need to take the kids to school."

"Fine." He didn't feel like arguing anymore. All he'd wanted to do in the first place was hold her, and he'd gotten that.

"I'm going to look in on the kids," she said.

She still looked unhappy, so he didn't let go of her right away. "Hey," he said softly. "Do you forgive me?"

Her sharp look told him she hated it when he used her own rules against her. "I'm working on it," she said at last.

"Okay. By the way, I got Hightower to promise you a day off." He let her go, knowing he'd pushed his luck as far as he dared.

"Good. After today, I could use one," she muttered as she left.


	7. Consequences

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay on this chapter—I hope nobody gave up! I got distracted by episode tags. I so much enjoyed seeing Hightower again!

**Chapter 7: Consequences**

The next day, Teresa made the time to eat breakfast with her family. Though Patrick hadn't told the kids she'd been in danger, she thought they'd sensed something was wrong, judging by the big hugs she got when she woke them up. They were all smiles after that, and she treasured her time with her family until the series of texts hitting her phone told her she really needed to leave. She gave both kids kisses and hugs, then found herself engulfed in her husband's embrace. He'd moved to hug her before she realized it, making her wonder if he'd been afraid she'd deny him his good-bye kiss. Which she never did, no matter how unhappy she might be with him.

"Have a good day," he whispered in her ear, then pressed his lips to hers for what was definitely not a perfunctory kiss.

Victoria's giggles distracted her; she preferred to avoid making out in front of the children, though Patrick didn't mind doing so. He was full of windy theories about how it was reassuring to them to see that their parents loved each other.

When she pulled away, she said, "You have a good day too. I love you."

His expression turned into a wide smile, and she was glad she'd reminded him. "I love you too. Will you be home for dinner?"

"I'll do my best." She waved at them all on her way out.

The drive to work gave her some time to think. She was still very unhappy that Patrick had risked his life when hers was already in danger, but she recognized the compulsion behind his actions. The tragedies of her own life made her determined not to leave her children orphaned as she had been, but Jane's experiences and resulting fears were equally valid. In addition, he was still having nightmares about his last case, and she wasn't positive he'd recovered from telling the kids about Charlotte.

This was one of those issues they were never going to agree on. She'd just have to do everything she could to prevent any more situations like that. She would start by telling Cho not to call him next time, though that wouldn't stop him if he felt it was the right thing to do. And of course she would try to avoid being held at gunpoint in the future.

She had just parked when Hightower's assistant called to summon her to a meeting. Teresa sighed, but this wasn't unexpected. Cho wasn't the only one Patrick had gotten into trouble.

Cho was waiting for her outside Hightower's office. They exchanged nods of greeting, and Teresa squelched the urge to apologize on Patrick's behalf. He'd said he'd do it himself, after all. And they both knew this was an inevitable part of working with Patrick Jane.

Hightower greeted them with a resigned expression. "Good morning. I'll keep this brief. We all know what happened last night. Since we can't have civilians inciting criminals to shoot up hospitals, tell me what you're going to do differently next time."

Cho said, "Not call Jane. Hit him over the head if he shows up."

"I can't officially sanction the latter, but okay. Lisbon?"

With difficulty, Teresa stopped herself from saying _Not get taken hostage_. "I have spoken to both Cho and Jane about what happened and why it was unacceptable, even though fortunately no one was hurt. Both indicated their understanding of my expectations of them in the future."

Hightower looked skeptical, and Teresa remembered that Patrick had once told her it was a dead giveaway when she started talking like a lawyer. "Jane promised it wouldn't happen again?"

"He said he understood that I expect him to make the children his priority next time instead of foolishly risking his life," she replied.

"Well at least he didn't lie to you and promise to stay home," Hightower sighed. "We all recognize the price we pay for Jane's help catching bad guys. The AG is sympathetic—to a point. But the media isn't. I need some figurative heads to roll, and you two are the obvious choices. Cho, you're on suspension for five days. Enjoy your time off. Brief Rigsby on your way out."

"Yes, ma'am," Cho said, getting up and nodding to Teresa before leaving.

When he'd closed the door behind him, Hightower sighed. "Lisbon, you're a problem. I can't afford to suspend you when you're so far behind already. Besides, I'm afraid Patrick would take that as a reward for his bad behavior."

Teresa couldn't argue with that. Patrick would regard having her home for a week as a treat, and it wouldn't be a punishment for her, either. Though the workload afterward would be. "So what are you going to do?" she asked.

"I hate to do this to you, Lisbon. I truly do. But I've made up a schedule of the reports that are overdue and the dates I expect them. You'll be burning the midnight oil for at least the next week." Hightower handed her a couple of pages, and Teresa's heart sank as she took in the magnitude of the workload.

With an inward sigh, she reflected that Hightower's habit of using her to punish Patrick had always been her least favorite thing about working for her. But this was also punishing her kids, which she absolutely hated. "I understand, ma'am," she murmured.

"I'm calling this an administrative leave," Hightower said, "so under no circumstances are you to be in the field for the next week."

"When would I have time?" she wondered, reading the second page in despair. Then she looked up and met Hightower's sympathetic but firm gaze. "I'll get right on this."

"Great. And Lisbon?" Hightower paused until Teresa turned back to her. "When you're done with the list, I'll approve that vacation day Patrick was so insistent you have."

"Thank you." Maybe by then she'd actually want to spend time with her husband rather than strangle him, she thought as she left.

mmm

Patrick was surprised to get a text from his wife after he got home from dropping the kids off at school, swinging by the dry cleaners, and picking up a couple of items at the gourmet grocery store as part of his campaign to get back in Teresa's good graces.

_Hightower suspended Cho. I think he's going out of town, so you better hurry and apologize._

_Will do_, he responded. _What about you?_

_My punishment is to drown in paperwork. Don't expect me for dinner, probably not at all this week. Any kid activities I can't miss? Graduation is next week, right?_

Patrick was at first disbelieving, then angry. His reward for saving her life was to lose her for a week? No. He wasn't going to have this. He would go talk to Hightower, perhaps threaten to take his family and move to a resort community. Teresa could be head of security, and he could do magic tricks for bored tourists on the beach.

_Do not even think about going to Hightower. You'll only make it worse. And if you make this worse, I will kill you._

He sighed. She was probably right, since this punishment was obviously aimed at him. Hightower had always known that the only real way to control his behavior was to make him understand that Teresa would pay for anything he did wrong. And now she was going to be worked half to death, he was going to miss her like crazy, and his innocent children were going to be deprived of their mother.

He wondered if he could do some of the paperwork for her while she slept. He was a pretty decent forger, after all.

His phone rang, startling him. When he answered it, Teresa's voice demanded, "Tell me you're not going to make more trouble for me."

Ah. He'd hesitated too long before responding, and she'd jumped to the worst conclusion. "I am not going to make more trouble for you. And graduation is next Wednesday."

"Thank God." There was a troubling emotional undercurrent in her voice, and he sensed her stress level was through the roof.

"I'm sorry about this, darling. I thought at worst she'd suspend you."

"She said you'd take that as a reward."

"She knows me too well," he grumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm paying for it. Well, I better get started if I want to get home before midnight."

"You can bring your work home," he said, alarmed. "I promise I won't try to distract you."

"Mm hm." Her tone clearly conveyed skepticism. At least it wasn't outright disbelief.

"Tomorrow I'll pack you a survival kit," he promised. "Can I bring you lunch?"

"I'm not so sure it's safe for you here at the moment," she replied. "Call Cho. Right now. I'll see you tonight sometime. If I don't get home in time to see the kids, give them a kiss for me."

"I will," he promised, hating it. Hating all of this. He didn't like her out late at night, and he didn't like her missing time with the kids. But she was right: going to Hightower now would only make things worse. He couldn't let her know how this bothered him, or she'd use it again in the future, and he couldn't have that.

He'd just have to plot a subtle way to have his revenge.

mmm

All that week, Teresa struggled not to become a complete stranger to her family. She made sure to be home by 8:30 every night so she could tuck the kids in, then eat whatever Patrick heated up for her before diving back into her work, this time on the living room couch. Patrick tried to be good, reading quietly or cleaning up while she worked. He only interrupted her for a good-night kiss before going to bed, since he was taking the kids to school. Despite her resolution to join him for at least five hours a night, she fell asleep on the couch most of the time.

Friday morning, she woke on the couch to find that Patrick had joined her in the night. She was sprawled on top of him, her nose tucked against his neck, and she could feel his morning erection throbbing against her. Smiling, she pressed her lips against his pulse point and shifted position slightly so their bodies were more comfortably aligned. He hummed a little, taking a deep breath as he woke.

"Good morning," she said, kissing his chin.

"Morning," he murmured with a smile.

"What are you doing out here?"

He slid a hand beneath her tank top and began tracing designs on her back. "I miss you. It's so lonely in bed without you, and I hate it."

"What time is it?" She wondered if they possibly had time for a quickie before the kids woke up.

Her cell phone alarm went off just then, answering her question. She turned it off but didn't get up immediately, resting her head on his chest to listen to his heart beat. His sigh ruffled her hair.

"When do we emerge from this particular circle of hell?" he asked. "Will we see you at all this weekend?"

"Sunday, maybe. I'm still planning to take the kids to church, and hopefully we can all have brunch together." She tried to ease herself off him, but he held her in place.

"Is Madeleine enjoying her triumph? It will be short-lived."

"Patrick, you said you wouldn't make this worse!" She tensed, alarmed.

"And I won't. But I hate what she's doing to you." He rubbed her back soothingly.

"So do I," she sighed.

"You don't have to work, you know. We have other sources of money. Or we could move somewhere else, and you could get a job with better hours." He nuzzled her hair.

"I like my job." She knew he wasn't serious; he always grumbled when her job interfered with what he wanted. "Don't you get some crazy idea in your twisty little mind that this is a contest between you and Hightower. I'm not going to be the rope in your game of tug-of-war. This is my job and my choice. The only choice you get to make is whether you want to adapt your plans in the future to avoid this kind of thing."

"You think she was right to do this?" He sounded outraged.

"I think she found a very convincing way to make both of us think twice about when you should be involved in cases." She lifted her head to look at him.

"Yes, well maybe she's made me think twice about working for the CBI in any capacity," he muttered.

"That's your choice," she replied. She kissed him and then got to her feet, determinedly ignoring the puppy dog eyes he was making at her. "You apologized to Cho, right?"

"Yes. I also invited him to brunch tomorrow, since he'll be back in town."

She smiled a little; Cho frequently said Jane's cooking was better than any apology. "Good. Now, I need to get going."

"I'll have breakfast ready by the time you're out of the shower," he promised, getting up and giving her a quick kiss before she headed for their room.

mmm

Patrick thought long and hard that day about the future, both short- and long-term. He decided to take the kids to the beach on Saturday so they'd all be out of Teresa's hair. It would also give them a treat to make up for the rough month or so they'd had. He also did some of the paperwork to enroll them in first grade in the fall, though he'd have to find a quiet moment to make sure Teresa was on board before submitting it.

Longer term, he decided to put out feelers and see if there were better paying employment opportunities that would meet his terms. He liked the familiarity of the CBI and working with Cho, but maybe he needed to find someplace to use his skills that wouldn't impact Teresa's work life so directly. The Feds had more money than California, so he'd start there.

Despite being confident he could raise whatever funds he needed at will, he'd begun to worry lately about what would befall his family if something happened to him. If he left Teresa a single parent, he didn't want her to have to worry or struggle. He needed to pay more attention to building a safety net. He wasn't getting any younger, and the kids were only going to get more expensive. Teresa would be shocked at what Victoria's riding lessons were going to cost.

Madeleine had a point: when the kids were in school full time, he'd need to fill his days with something more than domestic chores. He could even work a regular schedule if he could bring himself to trust some of the other parents enough to allow the twins to carpool to after-school activities. Teresa had remarked from time to time that he needed to stop hovering over them quite so much; she didn't want them to be too sheltered or to see the world as an unnecessarily scary place. And while it was true that he worried about a Red John disciple re-emerging someday, he had to admit the odds against it grew with each passing year. He did not want that evil shadow to fall on his children, especially for no other reason than his own fears.

Grace would know who would be a good first contact at the FBI, but she would tell Wayne, and he would tell Cho. Patrick felt he owed it to them to tell them himself if he decided to leave for good. So he called his second-favorite FBI agent instead.

"Moore," came the greeting.

"Stan, it's Patrick Jane. How are you?"

"Jane! To what do I owe this dubious honor?" Moore replied cheerfully. "Let me guess. I heard about what happened at the hospital. Has someone finally decided there's not room for both you and your lovely wife at the CBI? Because the FBI is big enough for the both of you."

"I'm not authorized to speak for Teresa," Patrick said, "but I'm interested in separating our careers a bit. I thought I'd give you the first chance to lure me out of my comfort zone."

"Ah, a challenge. Let's do lunch. Let's see...are you free Monday?"

"Sure."

"Fantastic. You need to pick the kids up, right, so nothing too late. How about eleven-thirty at Carmichael's?"

"I'll see you then."

"Bring pictures!" Moore reminded him before he hung up.

Patrick smiled. Moore had been assigned to the Red John case after Patrick had been forced to give it up for Teresa's sake, so he'd been a pretty big part of their lives as they built their relationship, got married, and had the kids. They didn't see him all that often, but he'd spent more than one Thanksgiving with them since his family was all back East, and he always sent Christmas presents for the twins. He was someone Patrick trusted, and more importantly, he was someone Teresa might trust to work with him.

mmm

Teresa was unhappy to have to wake up before dawn on a Saturday, but she was even more unhappy when Patrick and the kids came in to kiss her goodbye and announced they were driving over to the coast for the day. She was glad they were going to have fun, but she felt a little abandoned, resenting that she had to work because of something Patrick had done while he got to spend all day playing with their children.

The quiet did help her concentrate, and she gradually came to be grateful that she hadn't had to go to the office to work, which she probably would have if her family was at home. Patrick had left some of her favorite snacks in the fridge, as well as leftovers for lunch and dinner, so she only had to take brief breaks to eat. She made good progress.

It was past eight that night when she looked up and realized it was nearly bedtime and her family was nowhere to be found. She grabbed her phone and called her husband, alarmed.

"I was just about to text you," he greeted her. "We've had a lovely dinner, and I'm betting the kids will nod off in the car."

"You're still at the coast?" That was at least two hours away.

"We found a carnival," he replied, as if that was all the explanation necessary. And in a way, it was.

She could hear Victoria chattering in the background and sighed. He'd doubtless gotten them hyper on sugary treats, and with a nap in the car, they'd be bouncing off the walls when they got home. "Drive safe," she sighed.

"How are you coming along?"

"Good. I might even be able to go on our post-brunch walk at this rate."

"Excellent. Well, I'll let you get back to it. See you in a couple of hours. Love you."

"Love you too," she replied before hanging up.

It took her several minutes to focus again; her mind wanted to dwell on all the fun she'd missed. She'd always wanted to go to a carnival with Patrick, hoping he'd tell her some of his rare stories about his childhood. Well, maybe she could get him to take her to the state fair when it came to town.

Eventually she lost herself in reports again. She wished all her unit leaders could write as succinctly as Cho, and made a note to ask him if he'd consider giving a seminar. Though possibly his talent for summing up events in the fewest possible words could not be taught. Certainly his dry wit was unique.

When she took a bathroom break, she realized she had neat stacks of paper all over the coffee table that would certainly not survive the twins on cotton candy. So she took some time to carefully pack her work in her briefcase, then cleaned up her dishes from the day, because Patrick hated it when he had to clean up after her in the kitchen.

She had just settled back on the couch with her laptop when the door opened and she was accosted by two children with painted faces, both shrieking "Mommy!" Victoria shoved a plastic-wrapped blob of blue cotton candy at her, while Liam struggled to carry a teddy bear almost as big as he was. Looking past them, she saw that Patrick was burdened with a stuffed pony big enough for Victoria to ride and was, mysteriously, wearing a pink feather boa and a pirate hat. She burst out laughing.

Patrick looked exhausted when he smiled at her. "Kids," he said, raising his voice to be heard, "Mommy needs to work. Pajamas, now, please."

"No, I want to hear about the carnival," Teresa protested, snuggling one wiggly child in each arm. "What are you supposed to be?" she wondered, looking at the painted faces.

"Dog!" Liam said, as Victoria shouted, "Cat!"

She looked up at Patrick, who was setting down all the beach gear he was carrying in addition to the carnival prizes. "These wash off, right? They can't go to church this way."

Patrick gave her a look. "No, Teresa, I let people draw on our children's faces with Sharpies."

He really was exhausted, she realized, if he was snarking at her in front of the kids. She decided to let him be and turned back to the twins. "Did you ride any rides?"

"The Ferris wheel!" Victoria said. "We went higher and higher and higher and we could see everything!"

"I got to pet an elephant," Liam reported.

"I got to ride a horse!" Victoria added.

Teresa looked at Patrick, a little concerned, and he explained, "It was a miniature horse on a lead rope. Perfectly safe."

Liam said, "Daddy showed me how to do the ring toss. That's how I won Bernard." He pointed to the huge teddy bear.

"It sounds like you had a lot of fun," she said, smiling. "Come on. You can tell me more during your baths."

mmm

By the time she finally had the kids settled in bed, Patrick was passed out in theirs. At least he'd managed to get into his pajamas and crawl under the covers, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow. She ran her fingers through his tangled, wind blown curls before double checking the door locks and alarm, then getting ready for bed herself.

As she crawled under the covers, Patrick moved toward her, draping an arm over her and murmuring, "I missed you."

She moved closer and whispered, "I missed you too. But I'm glad you had fun."

"I'd've had more fun with you." He yawned, then added, "Next time the fair's in town, let's have date night."

For once, she was delighted that he'd read her mind. "Deal," she said, giving him a kiss.

"When can you take your day off?" There was a plaintive note to his voice that made her kiss him again.

"This week. I need a break after this."

"Good." He smiled, and she smiled back before closing her eyes. They were asleep a moment later.


	8. Negotiations

**Author's Note: **So first I'm all excited about the new episode, and then there's a repeat instead. Then all the spoilers! So I had to go hide in my happy place. If only I could move there permanently... Thanks to everyone who is reading this, and especially the reviewers! You make me happy no matter what happens on the show. :)

**Chapter 8: Negotiations**

Teresa slept through her alarm the next morning, something she hadn't done since her pregnancy. Patrick was tempted to let her sleep, since she so obviously needed to, but she got cranky when he made decisions for her. So he opted for a compromise.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured in her ear, gently shaking her shoulder. She gave a groan of protest, and he continued, "Should I just let you sleep? I'm sure it won't hurt for you three to skip church just once."

She muttered, "What time izzit?"

"Your alarm just went off. It's a little past eight." He kissed her forehead. "You can go back to sleep. The kids aren't up yet. We'll have a lazy breakfast when you're all awake."

"I should get up," she sighed, eyes still closed. "Have to set an example."

"Then set an example of taking care of yourself," he urged, stroking her hair. "You've been working far too hard for far too long. Go back to sleep, darling."

She murmured something indistinct, then fell back to sleep. Patrick decided breakfast could wait until his family was awake to eat it and snuggled back down beside her. He knew he wouldn't go back to sleep, but he could enjoy holding her for a little while. The kids probably wouldn't oversleep by much.

Half an hour later, he was proven right. Victoria opened the bedroom door and peeked in. "Daddy?"

"Ssh," he warned. "I'll be right there, princess."

She closed the door again, and he sighed into Teresa's hair, then got up, rubbing at his face and shrugging on a T-shirt over his pajama bottoms. He went into the hall, taking care to close the bedroom door as quietly as possible behind him, and found Victoria in her brother's room poking at him.

"Victoria, stop that. Let Liam sleep," Patrick chided. "He's tired. So is Mommy."

"Aren't we going to church? Mommy said I could wear my pink dress," Victoria said, following him toward the kitchen.

"No church today. You can wear your dress to graduation instead. What would you like for breakfast? Cereal?"

"Can I have toast and jelly?"

"Sure." He put the teakettle on, poured her a glass of milk, and put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. "What would you like for brunch? Uncle Cho is coming, so we have to have sausage scramble, but other than that I'm taking requests."

She grinned at him. "Cheesy bacon potatoes!"

"But you just had those last week," he teased her. "Aren't you tired of them?"

"Never!" she declared.

"What kind of jam do you want? Strawberry? Marmalade?" He looked in the refrigerator. "Or raspberry?"

"Marmalade," she decided.

"You can carry it into the dining room. Here, take your glass too," he told her. He finished up the toast and carried it into the dining room, then went back to make his tea and another round of toast.

Liam wandered into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. "Toast?" he asked.

"With your choice of jam," Patrick replied.

"Is Mommy sick? We'll be late for church." He looked worried.

"Mommy's just tired. We're letting her sleep," Patrick said. "Don't worry. You'll go to church next week." He knew how anxious Liam could get when his routine was disrupted, and he didn't want his son to worry about his mother's health. That was his father's job.

"Okay. Can I have strawberry?"

"You certainly can. I'll bring it to you. Here's your milk; don't drink while you're walking."

Liam grinned at him, obviously remembering the mess he'd made once attempting to multi-task. Patrick asked, "Any requests for brunch?"

"Pancakes. With blueberries," Liam said as he carefully carried his glass of milk into the dining room.

Patrick thought over the menu in his mind and added a spinach quiche to balance out the lack of vegetables so far. Then he took the strawberry jam and toast out to Liam so he could get started.

mmm

Patrick was just thinking he needed to interrupt the kids' TV time to make them get dressed when Teresa wandered out of the bedroom, roused by the scent of coffee drifting through the apartment. He handed her a mug of it, saying, "Just in time. Cho will be here in half an hour."

She took a sip of coffee and nodded. He called, "Victoria, Liam, go get dressed. Uncle Cho will be here in a few minutes."

"Yay!" they chorused.

"Turn the TV off!" he called as they started to leave the room without doing so.

"But we're not done watching it!" Victoria protested.

"Then you can turn it back on when you come back," he pointed out.

A moment later, the TV went silent. He turned to Teresa, who was making progress on her coffee and looking a little more awake. "Good morning, love. Feeling better?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked. "I must have slept through my alarm."

"I did wake you up, but you went right back to sleep," he replied, stealing a quick coffee-flavored kiss. "Look at it this way: now you have something to confess next week."

She rolled her eyes. "In addition to the many sinful thoughts of murdering my husband this past week? Yeah, that'll thrill Father Morland."

He chuckled. "As adorable as you are in your PJs and bedhead, you might want to hop in the shower and find something less provocative before Cho gets here. Otherwise you'll have to confess to encouraging lustful thoughts in a man you're not married to."

She shook her head. "Only you think I'm adorable when I'm a complete mess, and that's just because you're weird."

"No, it's just because I'm head over heels in love with you," he corrected.

"Mm. Good answer." She gave him a kiss and held out her mug for a refill, which he gladly provided. Then she headed off to the bathroom. Along the way he heard her call out, "You're supposed to be getting dressed, Liam, not drawing. I can hear you rattling pencils."

"Sorry, Mommy," he called back.

Patrick smiled. Even though this Sunday morning hadn't gone to plan, it was still his favorite time of the week.

mmm

After brunch, Cho decided to join them on their afternoon walk. The kids were excited to see him, as always, and they walked on either side of him talking over each other as Patrick and Teresa fell behind. Patrick was delighted when she reached for his hand, and he immediately wove his fingers with hers.

"Not wanting to murder me at the moment?" he inquired.

"No. But then I almost never want to after your Sunday brunch," she replied. "Give it 24 hours and I may change my mind."

"What if I promise you this is the last time Hightower will punish you for something I've done?"

She stopped, looking worried. "What are you planning, Patrick?"

"Nothing terrible," he promised. "And nothing I won't discuss with you first."

The furrow between her eyebrows eased but didn't vanish. "I'll hold you to that."

"Relax. And stop thinking about work." He leaned forward to kiss that little worried crinkle, then met her gaze. "Be in this moment with me."

Her whole posture relaxed, and her expression softened as it always did when she was reminded of what he'd said to her on their wedding night. Over the years the phrase had come to be a kind of shorthand for them, used to comfort each other when one of them was stressed. It was their way of creating a little bubble of happiness for a moment where nothing existed but the two of them and their love for each other.

She went up on tiptoe to kiss him, and he immediately coaxed her into opening her lips, wrapping his arms around her and trying to convey how much he loved her. His love had grown since that night when they committed to each other in the midst of danger and uncertainty, though he wouldn't have believed it possible at the time. If it kept growing, eventually there would be no room for any other emotion inside him, he thought.

Gradually, he became aware of the outside world again and the fact that his children were giggling. Teresa heard it too and pulled back, then started laughing.

Cho was holding up an index card on which he'd written "4.5," while Liam and Victoria's scorecards read "8" and "7," respectively.

"Hey," Patrick protested, "why the lowball score, Cho?"

"It's the same old thing. You lose points for lack of originality," Cho replied. "Are we walking here, or what? Usually you wait until we get to the park before you start making out."

"Can I help it if my wife is more irresistible than usual today?" Patrick grinned, seeing the amused glint in his friend's eyes. "But yes, by all means, let's keep walking. Those dogs aren't going to gawk at themselves."

Teresa said, "And stop teaching our children to mock us, if you don't mind."

"Not mocking. Teasing," Cho corrected her. "Right, kids?"

"Right," Victoria said. "Cause teasing is okay if you're not mean."

"Right," Teresa agreed. As they started walking again, she mused aloud, "Actually, I can think of a lot of uses for those scorecards. I could start giving scores on the quality of tooth brushing, for instance. Or bed making. Or clothes getting into the hamper instead of on the floor. I really like that idea. Thank you, Cho."

Patrick grinned. "It's a good thing the kids know their numbers."

mmm

Monday rolled around all too soon. Teresa had worked Sunday evening, but he'd managed to coax her into bed at a nearly reasonable hour, so she left for work before the kids had finished their breakfast. Patrick got them through their morning routine and to school on time, then busied himself with chores and errands until it was time to meet Moore for lunch.

He was five minutes early, but Moore was already waiting for him at a table for two right beside the big bay window overlooking a park. He got to his feet to shake hands. "Jane, good to see you. How's life treating you? Everyone's well, I hope?"

"We're all fine, thanks. How about you?" Patrick replied as they sat down.

"Oh, can't complain. I ordered you a pot of tea, so I hope you haven't suddenly decided to switch to soda."

Patrick feigned a shudder. "No. I'm a creature of habit."

"Yes, you are." Moore leaned back in his chair and gave him a close look. "Which makes me wonder if you're serious about leaving CBI."

"I am, as it happens. I can't have Teresa paying for it every time I do something that makes Hightower unhappy."

"I heard about that. You made a bit of a mess at the hospital, didn't you?"

"That wasn't my intent. I was only concerned with Teresa's safety, and Kalinsky's. And nobody got hurt." Patrick couldn't help sounding aggrieved; he still thought he'd earned some leeway for the success of his intervention. But Teresa and Hightower disagreed.

"True. But I'm sure you've heard the saying 'the end doesn't justify the means.'"

"Yes. Frequently. I happen to disagree."

Moore chuckled. "Obviously. The FBI takes the same view as the CBI, I'm afraid. We prefer to be able to prosecute the criminals we catch without the prosecuting attorney having to spend half his time fending off the defense's allegations of wrongdoing."

"Meh. Details."

"Exactly. Which is why the first thing I want to say to you is, if we should come to an arrangement and you work with us, it will be strictly in an advisory capacity. We'd value your take on suspects and your, er, unique interrogation style. But you'd have no ability to direct investigations and no say in tactics. You wouldn't have anyone to call to do research or get roped into your schemes."

"Not even you?" Patrick teased.

"Especially not me, because my boss has told me to stick to you like glue. You see, you're at a slight disadvantage here, Jane. We know how you operate. It's not like when you joined the CBI and poor Teresa didn't know what hit her." Moore grinned. "I'm not going to cut you any slack because you're charming."

"Famous last words, Stan," Patrick chuckled. Then he sobered. "In fact, what you're proposing will suit me fine. More importantly, it will keep Teresa from worrying about me. If I'm not springing any traps, there's far less chance of me getting punched. Or worse."

"True. Or of getting us sued." Moore paused as their drinks arrived, then continued, "But of course your safety is important. Mainly because your wife will hurt me if anything happens to you."

"True." Patrick glanced over the menu.

By unspoken agreement, they didn't talk business while they ate their lunches. Moore talked about an interesting case he'd worked on recently. He'd obviously heard about Patrick's last case, because he didn't ask about it. He did demand to see pictures, though, so Patrick pulled out his phone and showed off his family.

Over pie and coffee, Moore asked, "So. If you do this, what do you think the chances are that your wife would be interested in making a similar move? We're always looking for good administrators with a background in the field. The skills that make a good cop and the ones that make a good administrator don't often coexist in the same person."

"You'd have to ask her," Patrick said. "My sole permissible involvement in Teresa's career is not getting her fired."

Moore chuckled. "Understood. Once I have you in my clutches, though, I think my chances of bringing her onboard increase significantly."

"Maybe she'll see the wisdom in our not having the same set of bosses. At any rate, I am not yet in your clutches."

Moore pulled a sealed envelope out of his inside jacket pocket. "Our opening offer. Full-time employee, with full benefits. Flexible hours so you can stay involved with your kids. Start date is after school begins in the fall."

Patrick opened the envelope. The salary was substantially more than he had made at the CBI, but less than he was hoping for. "Full-time employee. That would make me subject to all the rules and regulations for federal employees. How long exactly do you think I would last in that situation?"

Moore laughed. "Exactly what I told my boss. So here's our alternative offer. Independent consultant. No benefits, but a bit more money, and much more flexibility." He handed over a second envelope.

Patrick quickly read through the details. "My contract would be reviewed yearly, at which time either party can choose not to renew it with no reason given."

"Well, we have to have some kind of leverage, don't we?" Moore shrugged. "Since we lack Hightower's ability to make you miserable in your personal life. We'd try to keep travel to a minimum, but there may be some required."

"That could be a problem. I would no longer have any leverage to force Hightower to give Teresa paid family leave."

"Ah, but you would have someone in the FBI with an incentive to run exhaustive background checks on any nanny you might think of hiring," Moore pointed out. "Also with access to surveillance equipment far better than any nannycam."

Patrick grinned. "Excellent points."

"Also," Moore said, "you may want to consider that we rarely deal in garden-variety murder cases. You'll be able to broaden your horizons. Catch terrorists and all that."

"Hm. I do feel I've seen nearly every motive and method for murder possible by now," Patrick said. "Any other inducements you care to offer?"

"That's it for the inducements. I do have to warn you, however, that you'll have to pass a background check. That will probably take all summer. But given your long law enforcement career, I don't think it will be a problem."

Patrick grimaced. The idea of the FBI digging around in his background was less than appealing, but it wasn't like anything they dug up would go further than a personnel file.

"So. Initial thoughts?" Moore asked.

"I'm willing to consider it. But of course I have to discuss this with my wife."

"Of course," Moore nodded. "Tell her I said hello."

"I will. Still dating the lawyer?"

"No, it's just me right now. It's rough out there, Jane. You're lucky."

"Believe me, I know that." He'd been lucky twice, and he hadn't deserved either of them. "Well, I'd better get going. Liam hates it if I'm late. He worries I've gotten in an accident or something."

"Are you sure he's your kid?" Moore joked.

"His twin sister definitely is, so yeah. He just takes after his mother. For which I'm grateful. I'll talk this over with Teresa and let you know what we decide."

"Please do."

They got to their feet and shook hands. "Come for dinner one of these days," Patrick invited. "The kids are growing up fast. Kindergarten graduation is day after tomorrow."

"Big milestone. I look forward to seeing the thousands of pictures you'll take," Moore grinned. "Of course, it would be so much easier if you'd use social media like every other parent I know."

"You sound like Teresa's brothers. I'm not interested in plastering information about my children where any psycho can find it."

"Understandable. Well, I'll definitely come to dinner and see them, then. Either to celebrate or so you can make it up to me."

"It's a deal. Stay safe, Stan."

"You too, Patrick."

**A/N:** Next up, Teresa's day off—finally!


	9. Changes

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story! It makes me smile to share my happy place with you. The beginning of this chapter might be a bit M-ish. I am bad at figuring out where that line is. But there's nothing terribly explicit. Just two married people taking advantage of a kid-free morning. :)

**Chapter 9: Changes**

Monday night, as they lay in bed after turning out the light, Teresa said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. I have tomorrow off."

Patrick said, "You forgot? How could you forget that?"

"Well, since you decided not to cook and we ended up going out for pizza, I was a little distracted," she replied.

"Liar. You didn't tell me on purpose so I couldn't make any plans," he accused, but with no real anger in his voice.

"That too. I would like to stay home and rest."

"You need to rest." he agreed, draping an arm over her waist.

She grinned as his fingers slid under her nightshirt. "Down, boy. You need to save your strength. You have a lot to make up to me tomorrow."

He didn't stop trailing his fingers over her hip. "Then why wait? I can start making things up to you now."

She slid closer to whisper in his ear. "No. Tomorrow. I want to see if you can make me scream."

Patrick chuckled. "Oh, I like a challenge. It's been a while, but I think I remember how."

"Oh, I hope so. Now, go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

He kissed her softly. "I can't wait."

mmm

The next morning, Patrick woke at his normal time to find Teresa still soundly asleep beside him. He took a moment to savor the treat of watching her sleep, then slid out of bed to get the kids ready for their last day of kindergarten. He was grateful he had a day with his wife to look forward to so he didn't have to dwell on how fast the twins were growing up. It felt like only yesterday that they'd fit in the crook of his arm.

He did his best to keep the breakfast chatter at low volume to improve his chances of finding her still in bed when he got home. He very much wanted to crawl back in beside her and kiss her awake.

But when he got home and opened the bedroom door, he found it empty. The scent of gardenias and a faint splashing noise told him she was indulging in a bath, so he opened the bathroom door and leaned against the jamb, grinning. "Well. I really hoped to find you waiting for me in bed, but this is a treat too. Would you be in need of someone to wash your back?"

She smiled, shifting so she was sitting up a little straighter. It had the effect of locking his gaze onto the tops of her breasts as bubbles slid down them. "I think I've got this," she replied. "What I would really love is some coffee."

With a chuckle, he said, "I would bring you some, love, but I can't take my eyes off you." He loved her disheveled bun, with the tendrils brushing her shoulders. Hell, he loved just knowing she was naked under all those bubbles. Prolonged nudity wasn't something she did much of, especially with kids running around the house.

And he absolutely loved that after six years of marriage, he could still make her blush with just a heated gaze. "It's not like you haven't seen it all before," she pointed out. "And it's not fair for you to stand there fully dressed and ogle me. You have two choices: get me coffee or get naked."

"Oo, I love it when you get all authoritarian on me," he grinned, beginning to unbutton his shirt, deliberately taking his time. Teresa watched with a rapt interest he found flattering.

"We don't have all day, you know," she remarked, trying for nonchalance. But the slight huskiness of her voice gave her away.

"True," he said. They actually had some serious things to discuss while they were free of little listening ears. But first they were going to enjoy themselves. He took his time removing his shirt, then bent to take off his shoes.

Teresa gave him an exasperated look. "When I said I wanted you to make me scream, I didn't mean from frustration."

He couldn't help laughing. "You should always be specific." He turned a little so she had a view of his butt as he slid off his jeans, then his boxers. She'd always had a thing for his ass. He paused until he heard her take in a breath to speak, then turned around to present her with his erection. "I hate to tell you this, Teresa, but I don't think there's room in there for the both of us."

She sighed. "I'm really comfortable here. I'm going to need a very good reason to get out."

"More than your horny husband?" he said incredulously.

"He sounds like a lot of work," she yawned.

He went over to the tub, kneeling beside it. As he did so, he was struck with a memory of the day he'd brought her home from the Visualize facility where she'd been held. She'd wanted a bath, and he'd sat beside the tub marveling at the fact that he'd gotten her back. Reaching out to stroke her cheek, he murmured, "Remember when you came home?"

She smiled. "Of course. You promised me my favorite meals, and you barely let me walk under my own power for the next eight months."

He slid his hand from her cheek down the side of her neck, then along her collarbone and down over her breast, enjoying the way she arched into his touch. Then he spread his hand over her stomach and kissed her. "I was so happy to have you home. And so amazed that you had a little life inside you."

"Two," she corrected.

"Yes, but we didn't know that until later." He stroked the soft skin of her belly, remembering when it had been hard and round under his palm. "I thought I could never be happier than at that moment. But you've proved me wrong about that so many times I've lost count."

She lifted a hand out of the water to curl it around the back of his neck, and a trickle of sudsy water slid down his spine as she pulled him to her for a long, thorough kiss. He shifted to get closer to her, but the cold surface of the tub was not what his body was aching for.

"Should I make you tomato soup and grilled cheese for lunch?" he murmured when they parted.

"Who says I'm going to let you take a break to cook?" she chuckled. "Help me up."

He got to his feet and extended his hands for her to grasp, watching appreciatively as she raised herself out of the water. "Like Venus rising from the ocean," he said.

"Oh, hush," she muttered.

"I will not hush," he replied. "You are absolutely gorgeous, and I'm going to spend the rest of our lives telling you so. I'm hoping eventually you'll believe me."

"Maybe once the dementia sets in," she grinned as she stepped out of the tub. Then she gave a little gasp as he pulled her flush against him. He couldn't suppress a little groan at the contact himself.

"Hand me a towel so I can dry off," she prompted.

"Dry is not what we're going for here," he pointed out.

"I don't want to get the sheets soaking wet."

He grinned at her and walked her backwards until he could press her against the wall. "I don't think I can make it to the bed. Right here is fine." He wasn't going to squander this golden opportunity by settling for the under-the-sheets sex that had become the norm when the kids were old enough to get out of bed by themselves.

Her pupils dilated even further, and he pressed his advantage, nibbling at her earlobe as he rubbed himself against her. When she moaned, he knew he'd won this round. But luckily for Teresa, he was magnanimous in victory.

mmm

They eventually made it to bed, snuggling up together in the soft sheets after a lengthy shower. Teresa rubbed her nose along his jawline, glad that he'd shaved that morning. She loved him like this, his skin slightly salty from exertion and his breath puffing her hair while his fingers stroked along her spine.

"That ought to hold me for another twelve years, until they go to college," he said after a moment.

"Well, I'm not prepared to wait that long," she said. "You're going to have to agree to summer camp or something when they're older."

"Or you could take a school day off now and then," he suggested.

She hummed, content. Then she did the math and said, "Twelve years? We haven't decided whether to put them in first grade in the fall." She leaned up on her elbow. "You didn't put the paperwork in without telling me, did you?"

"No, of course not. But it seems a little cruel to let them go through a graduation ceremony and then make them go back and do the same things again. With a group of kids they don't know."

She lay back down again with a sigh. "I just wish I could be sure they're ready."

"Mrs. Kidd says they are. They would be bored out of their minds going though that curriculum again. They didn't have any trouble with it the first time, after all."

She was well aware that boredom was the enemy. Like their father, the twins got into the most trouble when they were bored. "I know they're ready intellectually. I just worry about the social part. Liam is so introverted."

"All the more reason to let him stay with the friends he's made," Patrick said. "It's going to be enough of a challenge for him being separated from Victoria next year. He should at least have some other kids he knows in the room with him."

"They're going to separate them?" Her anxiety level shot up. The school had accommodated their request to keep the kids together for kindergarten. They'd couched it as a security measure, but it had also been for their emotional well being.

"Yes. It's policy not to have siblings in the same class at the elementary school level and beyond. It's distracting and leads to unhealthy competition in some cases, they said."

Teresa's heart hurt at the thought of her children being separated. That made Patrick's point more compelling; she couldn't bear to think of her sensitive son alone in a room full of strangers. Victoria would be fine; she'd probably have three new best friends before lunch. But not Liam. He had fewer friends, but he was very invested in them. She couldn't take them away from him. "Okay. First grade it is. Is tuition going up?"

"Yes. And that leads me to the second thing we need to discuss. I'm not going to work for the CBI anymore."

She closed her eyes and took a breath. "I was afraid you might be thinking that. Look, Patrick, I know you hate that Hightower used me to punish you. I do too. But you can avoid that by not pulling stupid crap anymore."

"I am going to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. And I resent that we both had to pay for that. So I have decided that we should no longer have the same boss."

She was torn. On a personal level, what he was saying made sense. But the work part of her brain was already wailing about their reduced solve rate. "So you're not going to work at all?" That wouldn't last, she assured herself.

"On the contrary, I have a very attractive offer for full-time employment." He sounded smug, which always worried her.

"From whom?"

"Stan Moore."

"Profiling?" She supposed it made sense; he was an expert in human behavior.

"More or less."

"What does that mean exactly?" He could get into real trouble with the FBI, she worried. It wouldn't just be murder cases. He might find himself up against drug lords or terrorists. Without her. She might not even know until far too late. The remnants of her afterglow evaporated on a wave of dread.

"I'd be working under Stan's supervision. Mostly just interrogating or observing. He went out of his way to let me know I wouldn't be devising any clever ruses or traps. And nobody will do anything I ask without his say-so." Patrick paused. "He seems to have developed a containment strategy he thinks will work better than yours."

"I never tried to contain you," she protested. "But I probably should have."

"Meh. We caught a lot of bad guys," he reminded her. "But Stan did warn me that he wouldn't fall for my charms."

Teresa chuckled. "Yeah, well, I promised myself that in the beginning, too. And look where I ended up."

He slid a leg between hers. "Complaints, my darling?"

"No. I wouldn't change a thing." She kissed him as reassurance. "Do you think you'll be happy with all those restrictions?"

"Probably not. Though the cases themselves might be more interesting. Oh, and there will be a little travel."

She frowned. "How will we handle that? If you have no leverage over Hightower, I might not be able to take off when you're gone."

"I know. But Stan offered to let us use the FBI's resources to investigate nanny candidates."

"Really?" She was shocked. He'd always been paranoid about the twins' safety, refusing to let anyone he didn't know and trust near them. He'd had a very hard time when they'd gone to preschool, and she still suspected he'd hypnotized and interrogated both the teacher and the principal before they'd chosen that school. He'd also dropped in randomly on their class time, to everyone's great annoyance except the kids', for the first couple of months.

That was when she'd suggested to Cho that he might consider asking for Patrick's help on difficult cases. Cho, of course, had lost no time, seeing immediately the benefits both professionally and personally. More contact with Patrick meant more time with his honorary niece and nephew, as well as more home-cooked meals. And everyone was delighted with the boost to their solve rate.

"Well, they're getting old enough now to spot any danger and stay with their trusted adult." He sounded a little doubtful. "I'll work on reinforcing that this summer. I won't work until the fall, of course."

"Don't scare them," she said softly. "Liam's still shaken up by the idea that a bad man made his older sister go to heaven and leave you here."

"I know. I'll do my best not to frighten him. But there are behavioral clues I can teach them to look for and tell us if they spot."

Oh, this was going to be hard for him, she thought. "You don't have to do this," she told him. "You can stay with CBI on an ad hoc basis. It's worked so far. I mean, it's not like I'm going to get taken hostage very often."

"I certainly hope not. But I think this is a good time to bring in a bit more money. Victoria wants to start riding lessons next year, and they're almost old enough to start studying music." He paused, then said, "Maybe we should get a nanny who's bilingual, to help them get another language. Spanish would be easy enough to find around here."

She kissed his chin. "Our kids are so lucky. You're a great father."

"I want them to have everything I never had. And...everything I never got a chance to give Charlotte."

She pulled him closer. Soon their children would be older than Charlotte had lived to be. That would be difficult for him. "We have so much to look forward to. Teaching them to drive. First dates. College hunting. And maybe someday weddings."

Patrick buried his face in her hair. "One thing at a time," he murmured. "Kindergarten graduation is all I can handle right now."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly and slid one leg up over his hips, holding him securely against her. "I love you," she whispered into his ear.

"I love you too," he whispered back, nibbling at her shoulder.

She nuzzled his curls. "Thank you for making a family with me."

He clutched at her a little desperately. "Oh, Teresa," he said hoarsely. "Thank you. Thank you for my second chance."

Then he kissed her, and she felt the hunger in it and responded in kind.

mmm

Eventually they had to get out of bed and eat, holding hands and feeding each other like giggly teenagers. It was a little like he imagined their honeymoon would have been if they'd ever had one. The only vacation they'd taken before the kids were born, she'd been heavily pregnant and he'd been worried for her health, so there hadn't been much playing around.

"We should do this at least once a year," he said. "It will be like our honeymoon, but spread out over our marriage."

She gave him a brilliant smile. "I like that. Next year I'll try for our anniversary."

"I didn't say it had to be only once a year," he pointed out. "By the way, Virgil says he and May are coming up for graduation. They want to take us all out for lunch. Do you think Cho and Rigsby will come?"

"Rigsby can't. Josh's preschool graduation is the same day, unfortunately. Cho says he'll try to make both if he can."

"Hopefully nobody will get murdered tomorrow," Patrick said. "But today is just for us. I was planning to take the kids to the zoo, and then to dinner at that place with the jukebox they love."

"Sounds good," she said. "Ice cream after?"

He chuckled. "Now who's spoiling them?" He got up to refill their drinks, then said, "I thought I'd get us a house at the beach for a week or two this summer. Do you think you'll be able to join us for part of it?"

"I'd try," she said, which was all she could ever really promise. "If you need reinforcements, I bet Grandpa Virgil could be talked into it."

"I'll invite them. But it isn't a question of reinforcements. I don't want to take them away from you for more than a couple of days. Skype isn't the same as being there."

She thought about how quiet the apartment had been when they'd all left for just the day. Too much of that would make her feel lonely indeed. "Yeah. Well, try for late summer, okay? I don't think I'm getting more time off in the immediate future."

"I'll shoot for August. We'll make it our end of summer celebration. One last big fun party before the kids go to first grade and I go back to work full time." He paused. "You haven't actually said that you're okay with me going to work with the FBI."

"I can't say I like it," she sighed.

"Aside from the impact on the CBI solve rate, what are you most worried about?" he asked.

"You. Your safety, mostly. But I also don't want you to do something you don't enjoy. You spent enough of your life doing that."

He thought about it. "I enjoy outwitting criminals. And I like Stan. I think I'll manage. And feel free to talk to Stan about my safety all you want. He'll make any deal you like, since part of the reason he's willing to hire me is because he thinks it'll give him a better shot at recruiting you."

"Me? Really?" She was surprised, but Patrick rolled his eyes at her.

"Teresa, he hasn't been joking all these years. You are exactly what the FBI needs, he says. The instincts of a cop combined with attention to detail and the ability to tolerate the tedium of management meetings and mountains of paperwork."

"He did not say that."

"Not as eloquently, no." He smiled. "But he recognizes how incredible you are."

"So you're saying I could go work for the FBI and you could stay at the CBI." She pondered it. Moving to the federal level would probably mean a bit more money, as well as better benefits.

"Or we could both go to the FBI, and that way you could continue keeping an eye on me," he countered.

She found herself attracted to the idea. If they made her a reasonable offer, it would be an added inducement. "Is Stan coming to graduation?"

"No, but we can have him over for dinner later this week. Is Madeleine coming?"

"She said she'd try. If she does, you'll be polite to her, right?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Relax, love. Leaving is all the revenge I intend to take. But I won't tell her until the deal is signed with Stan and I've let Cho know. So tomorrow will just be a pleasant social occasion. The kids will be the stars of the show. I'm merely the stage manager."

She smiled. "Mm hm. So, stage manager, when do we need to pick our stars up from school?"

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he said. "Forty-five minutes. Good thing we've already had our shower."

"Anything else we need to discuss?" she asked.

"I don't think so. Unless you'd like to re-open the dog discussion. I think there's an idea floating around that the best possible graduation gift would be a puppy." He gave her a hopeful look. "If we're ever going to do it, this summer would be the time. I can take the kids and dog to obedience training and lots of walks."

"Does it have to be a puppy? We can't get an adult dog that would be calmer?" She was tired just thinking about another bundle of energy in the house. "You realize a puppy would make us grown ups outnumbered?"

He grinned. "The puppy will grow up fast, darling. Just like our kids."

She sighed, but they both knew she was giving in. "We wait until this weekend so I get my vote picking the puppy."

Patrick leaned over to kiss her. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"And you take it to the beach with you this summer. I don't want to be rushing home feeling guilty because there's an adorable dog with sad eyes miserably waiting for me to release it from its crate."

"Deal. Hm. We'll have to find a nanny who likes dogs," Patrick mused.

She nodded. "And a nanny the dog likes. They're good judges of character, you know."

"Yes, I know. The added security is half the reason I want a dog."

"What's the other half?" She was curious.

He grinned. "Because my children want it. And also my adored wife, though she won't admit it."

"I like dogs. I just don't want to move, and I don't want to be taking the puppy out at 3 a.m."

"We are not moving, and I plan to paper train the puppy," he assured her.

"Good. And we wait to surprise the kids. I don't want them obsessing over a puppy when their grandparents are here."

"Of course." He winked at her. "You know I love surprises."


End file.
